Tale as Old as Time
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: Belle sells herself to Rumple as a slave in exchange to save her fathers kingdom. But as time passes does she see her sacrifice bloom into something more with the seemingly devious Rumple? Alternate ending up.
1. Sold

Gnarled old, but finely jeweled fingers rapped quickly against the tattered edges of a faded brown map on a large oaken table worriedly. It was the only noise in the grand room that held only a few select people who milled about in wariness, casting unsure glances in every direction, their eyes speaking louder than any words that could have been said.

The windows to the room had been shut and locked save for one huge glass rectangular pane that clearly displayed a multi-hued carpet of different tent colors on the ground as a dire picture of an all to real army camped and waiting just outside the kingdom borders.

Thick oily smoke curled from their camp fire mingling to seem like a volcanoes smoke, before an eruption, in the crystal clear sky. Even from his high point, one could hear the muffled sound of hammers repairing and fining weapons and armors, the sharp thunks as axes bit into the surrounding trees to create rams and siege vehicles. The barks of captains rang high into the air as they placed their troops in order or ran drills in preparation for the battle.

The king, Maurice, looked out upon the stirring enemy camp with watery blue eyes, his hands rhythmically still rapping against the table. There were probably more men out there preparing to invade his lands that he could see from the high perch in his castle study than the whole army he led! Alone, he knew he stood no chance against such a force that threatened to overwhelm his country and people.

"Where is _he_?" The king muttered through his scruff untamed salt and peppered beard anxiously. Only _he_ could provide a chance to save his kingdom, even though all knew of his reputation of craftiness.

A soft hand landed on his shoulder tenderly, giving him a small comforting squeeze that temporarily banished all strife coursing through his aged body. His old calloused hand found the soft, letting a sigh pass his lips. Turning around he found his lovely daughter, Belle, smiling calmly kind at him.

Her maple brown hair fell in an array of loose curls that tumbled down her shoulders. Azure blue eyes flashed mildly to her father silently giving him comfort. Even though she did not like his desperate decision, she would not argue his wisdom, but add her support in the face of such a burden which he alone bore on his aging shoulders.

Belle, his only child. A lovely woman all the men in his kingdom would happy woo given they had such riches for dowries and courtship. She had granted audiences to princes, kings, earls, and dukes from all over the land, yet none had managed to gain his lovely daughters hand to wed. She was a lofty free spirit that forged her own path in the usual formal world of royalty. His Belle had ideas and dreams that would make the kingdom flourish with happiness when his time had gone. If of course, there was still a kingdom to be had.

His brief smile faded away at the thought of his daughter living as a refugee in another kingdom or slain in the heat of battle.

"Don't worry, father, it will be alright." Belle assured him, her tone soft as she smiled at him.

"Not with-out my help it won't." A voice casually stated suddenly in the room.

The tension in the room became palpable as all heads turned to the creature that had magically slithered into their presence like some dangerous poisonous snake that had managed to slide under the door unnoticed.

His hair was tangled about his head in thin onyx oily strands to the point where it gleamed in the candle light. Green grayish skin seemed almost like scales that covered his body that was richly garbed in colorful festive clothes, so that he almost looked jester like, except all knew that a beast with his power was nothing to laugh at.

With a slick ugly smile he swaggered up to the king, a sharp pointed finger nail inches away from his majesty's weathered features. "I see you're in quite a bind here; an army at your heels, not enough forces, everyone waiting for their glorious leader to save them from the maw of evil." Rumple giggled sadistically. "So you've called me, now what can I do for you?"

The king stammered in front of the grotesque lanky thing before him. He dabbed his lips with his dry tongue trying to sound assured, but only seeming small and helpless in the eyes of one so known for evil. "We need help to beat the foe back; my commanders tell me that if we defeat them here they will be gone for good."

The devious Rumple nodded, his sickly teal eyes flashing gaily. "Oh, indeed they will be." Putting an arm around the kings shoulder the magical fiend ran his hand through the air as if displaying a picture as he hissed into the king's ear. "Think of it, no more war for at least a thousand years, peace, happiness, and the rest of those sickening ideals. All for the right price of course."

The king visibly shivered as if cold at Rumples touch, moving away from the ever grinning monster that stood in front of him calmly. Wiping sweat that beaded upon his wrinkled brow the king shifted his glance back to the window once more. If there was an option to push back the foe and offer peace, he could do nothing but take such an opportunity.

"What is it you wish?" He asked while staring intently out of the glass to the foe littered ground below. "I can grant you gold, gems, silks, wine, and the finest things money can buy!"

The devious fiend chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "That I can already have at the snap of my fingers. What need have I when I can conjure up a kingdom at the mere thought? No, I want…" His head scanned the room leisurely as if observing the expensive furniture before his eyes rested on the unwavering woman by the king's side.

Now she was a pretty one, one with hopes and dreams he'd yet to tamper with and crush. She stared at him, more curious than afraid, though when their eyes met she did not turn away like others but stared back as good as she got from him. Grinning maliciously, he pointed to Belle, she was an interesting one. "Her, I want, her."

"No!" The king snapped so viciously it slightly took Rumple aback, yet nothing but the same weasel grin sat plastered to his ever at ease features.

Striding in front of his daughter protectively his cloak swirled about him as the king took a step towards the magical monster. His face was smeared in a hard grimace, blue eyes flashing dangerously with his instinctive paternal urge to protect his child. "My daughter is not for sale, Beast!"

Rumple held a finger up, smirking at the king. "Ah, but would your people think the same. One girl for a kingdom. Think of the thousands." He mocked callously his hands clutched together in a mocking plea.

Maurice blinked, suddenly unsure at the ugly fiends joking yet truthful words. He could well imagine the blood spilt on the land from the merciless army scratching at their door. All the families whose lives would be destroyed and wasted. The hate and malice that would creep into a conquered people. But still, his daughter? His only family left upon the earth in the hands of the weedy little gnat before him.

"What will happen if we strike no bargain?" Belle asked inquisitively, though there was no masking the tremor in her voice. She had never been one to simply stand aside while court affairs took place, especially not when they were so directly involving her. All knew Belle made her own decisions on many matters; she was her fathers most trusted advisor.

Rumple shrugged his shoulder carelessly, still smiling gleefully. "The usual I suppose; men slaughtered on the field, women raped, children yanked away from their homes to be slaves in foreign lands, homes set ablaze." He yawned as if bored of the terror he evoked from his all too true words. "You know, what normally happens to the losers of war and all that."

"But if I strike this deal, will our victory be assured?" Belle persisted courageously. She would not let such vile things happen to her people. She could imagine the faces from the nearby villages stapled with terror as they ran for their lives from the forces barreling down upon them, all because she refused to strike a bargain with this…thing. She loved her people as any ruler would, and would not see them suffer such a fate for her sake. Still, a part of her screamed to run away and hide from the green eyes that searched her intently, and the smile that showed his yellowing small pointy teeth.

The fiend only nodded in reply, drumming his finger tips together steadily as he did so.

Sucking in a calming deep breath, she used the images of her people being decimated to spur her on. Nodding her head slightly she forced her words not to quake when they came out. "Then I will go with you, Rumplestilkn." She replied suddenly.

"No!" Maurice cried desperately gripping his daughters arm as if she would be whisked away at that moment.

"Yes!" Rumple hissed happily clapping his scaly hands in devious glee.

She would not sell herself to this crazed demon spawn, if he could help it. He would fight with every once of blood he had left to keep it from taking! Her azure eyes found her fathers confidently, as she nodded. "Papa I have to. What did you always tell me; that there are things larger than us in this world. This is one of those things." She replied calmly to her aching father.

Maurice could see in his daughter's eyes, she had already steeled herself to do it. She had her mother's stubborn will galloping through her veins. He knew there was no arguing with her in this state, her mind was made, even if he forbade it, all the magic in the world could not stop her.

Jerking around to Rumple, he searched the grinning beast desperately. "Please, there has got to be something else you desire, please don't take my daughter, please." He cared not if he begged in front of his entire kingdom, if it would save Belle a horrid fate he'd do it a million times over.

Rumple pursed his thin gray lips, staring off to the side, a finger tapping his chin thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Mm, nope." He replied cruelly. "It's the girl or you can start digging those graves now."

"It's not my father's choice." Belle replied firmly as she took a step to the ugly Rumple. Her blue eyes stared fearlessly into his green, as she stood proudly, shoulders squared and chin high. "I except."

Rumple chortled in devilish glee, starting down the lovely Belle once more with his sickly gaze that made a shiver crawl up her spine. "Goody." He replied smartly, his grin larger as his eyes continued their frivolous search of her.

Looking past Belle's shoulder, the fiend smiled a greasy grin at Maurice, before offering him a deep mock bow. "By dawn, your pesky army problem will be solved. Have fun running your kingdom, majesty." Grabbing Belle roughly with one hand, he wiggled his fingers at the king and his courtiers impishly, sniggering as he did so. "Tootles." He giggled cruelly then disappeared with Belle in tow.

The king took a step forward, his mouth agape as if not registering what had just been done. His heart jerked in his chest as he realized it had been the last time he would see his only child. He hadn't even gotten to bid her farewell. Her sweet perfume of wild flowers still lingered in the hot air of the court, a lasting memory forever burned into his mind of her. To think the last he ever saw of his beauty was her being hauled away to dwell with a beast.

A ragged sob escaped his lips as tear swelled in his eyes. He realized he'd been cheated in his deal; there had been no victory, only loss that tore his spirit in two. Falling to his knees, his body was racked as he sobbed for his daughter lost.

~8~8~

For Belle the world turned from the warm burgundies and browns of her fathers study to a blinding flash of brilliant white that made black and blue spots blink through her vision. Instantly she felt herself being jerked half blind through a cold hallway. She tried hard to keep herself on balance as she was hauled through winding corridors.

"Keep up, dearie; I have more things to do than lead you to your accommodations." Rumple snickered as he led her through his castle dungeons.

He was quite proud of his dungeon or collection room as he sometimes termed it. He had managed to wrangle quite a few oddities that called the foul dark place home sweet home, but Belle was most certainly the prettiest of his collection. He might even find a use for her if the mood took his fancy. He did have a huge home and it wasn't going to clean itself unless he made it do so.

As he came upon a single black steeled door he stopped sudden making Belle ram into him. He sighed in annoyance as he didn't budge, looking down upon her speaking officiously. "Here's where your situation stands, dearie. You bargained your life for your father's kingdom. That means from that moment you agreed, you became nothing more than another piece of my property. I own you. Do you understand?"

"I- I-." Belle stammered, looking around the frightening place before her. Taking a soothing breath she nodded sadly to Rumple. "I understand."

He grinned wickedly swinging the door to the cell open. "Good then, welcome home." He mocked before shoving her inside.

Belle only got a passing glance at the cell before the door was closed. A pile of dirty straw lining the floor, and a broken chair hunkered into a corner. The sound of echoing dripping told that there was water somewhere, and a tall thin window that couldn't even fit her slender arm through was carved at the back wall, but with no light shining through. The faint glimmer of white bone lying off to the side with a chain still clamped across its yellowing bone was testament that her cell had become only recently vacated.

As the door slammed shut and she was left in a world of darkness with only the dripping and the scurrying of curious rats, Belle finally felt free to let her emotions fly. Her hands felt along the black slimy walls till she could feel the tiny slit of the window and the chill air howling outside.

Settling down under it, she curled up with her knees tucked against her chest, and sobbed quietly for freedom, dreams, and hopes gone away that she would never know again.

Spinning at his wheel, the master of the castle frowned solemnly as he heard the soft cries of his captive echo around him. As he watched the flaxen straw turn into golden thread, he wondered why it did not feel quite right in his heart that she weapt.


	2. Breakfast?

"Knock knock." Rumple giggled cheerfully as he rapped his scaly knuckles upon the steel door sharply.

Without waiting for any words that may have been uttered from inside the morbid cell, the magical fiend pushed open the door to look upon his newly claimed arrival. The door creaked open slowly in a sharp screech upon its rusted hinges, revealing Belle just awaking from being curled underneath the high slit window.

In only one night her ruby red gown she'd been wearing had become smeared with gritty mud and bile, and nibbled at the fringes by starving rats. Her hair was ruffled across her head crazily, so out of place than the Belle he had seen the day before. Her flawless porcelain skin had become sullied with grime as well, with only the dried brooks of tears stains that had forced a path through the filth.

He smiled wickedly at the princess suddenly taken down from her high and mighty status to be lurking about the cell like a common wastrel. How it must be killing her inside to be jerked away from her comfy life of old and placed in misery! Yet, when their eyes met, he saw no inkling of disgust or repulsion to her state, only fear, sadness, and curiosity aimed at him.

"Breakfast, dearie." Rumple declared a little happier than usual to mask that he was slightly confused by her more calm reaction than he had anticipated.

She wasn't screaming to the rafters, or demanding better treatment, she wasn't even crying anymore. Very odd to say the least for Rumple who had looked forward to such a spectacle.

The lovely woman yawned widely, rubbing her hand across her face to rid herself of the last remnants of sleep. Many times in the night she had woken, hoping, praying it'd all been some nightmare that haunted her sleeping hours and she would wake by in her father's kingdom, happy and well. With out an army standing at their gates, but a peaceful life in her fathers court. Not so, still she could hear the rats traipsing about freely in the voided dark and the water slowly drip to the filthy floor.

It was still dark, with only a torch carried in the beasts hand to glow against the blackness that seemed almost psychical like a weight that wanted to crush her.

Rumple smirked maliciously at his captive, reveling in satisfaction as he saw her visibly quiver under his stony stare. "Feeding time." He echoed again in his disconcerting cheerful way.

"Food?" She said the word unsure. Arching a thin manicured brow she looked at Rumple in confusion. She hadn't thought him to be the type to give his prisoners anymore thought once they had been claimed. Judging by the poor soul whose bones were crumbling away into history in one corer of the square cell she assumed he forgot about them, leaving those unfortunate to their fates.

The fiend snorted once, giving her an odd stare. "People do still eat; don't they?" He asked mockingly oblivious.

A smile suddenly came unbidden to Belle's full lips as a small chuckled escaped her mouth at his hypothetical words. "Of course." She replied lowly to hide that fact she had giggled at him. Would he think she was making sport of him, or being cruel in her own way? Even having her whole world flipped she knew better than to risk his powerful wrath.

Rumple stared at the woman in the cell for a moment critically, biting down slightly on his lower lip. Did she, in her dire straights, alone in a dungeon with no hope to ever see freedom again just…laugh? Since his transformation to beast he'd never heard anyone laugh at him, or about him. It felt odd, but not unpleasant, to have her do so.

Shaking off the idle thought that played in his head, he knelt placing a steaming wooden bowl on the ground. "Better get it before the rats do." He winked once at her, his voice cruel, before straightening his lanky form once more.

Belle stared in wariness at the bowl, watching the streams of milky steam crash with the cold air that swirled about her.

Part of her had to wonder was this some sort of cruel trick by the devious Rumple's hands to place something before her then jerk it away or would she find still blinking eyeballs bobbing about fresh blood for her to eat in the bowl as some sort of mind trick to make her go insane? Still, the thought of the rats she knew were lurking in the corners had smelled the food and were waiting for their chance to strike out for a new meal.

Picking up the bowl timidly, her eyes rarely leaving the still grinning magical monster she found to her relief it was only oatmeal.

"You weren't expecting something like human flesh, were you now?" He hissed in mischief.

Looking down to the bowl in disgust, she grimaced, her stomach suddenly roiling at the thought. "Should I?" She whispered, her face nearly going green with sick and terror.

Rumple cackled at that, his eyes gleaming merrily. "Who knows?" He shrugged.

"You do." She replied flatly, for one moment forgetting where she was and letting the usual insightful, wise Belle come springing out against her captor.

Rumple fought not to look surprised at her sharp words. No one he could remember had ever spoken to him like that, so sure and confident. He tried hard to fight away the sudden confusion about his captive, but couldn't.

"Forgive me I shouldn't have-." Belle's voiced drifted off timidly as she looked down to the oatmeal stirring it slowly as if afraid to see if her captor might be looking down upon her angrily.

An awkwardness sudden filled the room, pulsing about them, each suddenly not knowing what to say to the other. The usual, always in control Rumple had been thrown a curve ball by the woman's flagrant attitude, it was...disconcerting.

The beauty, Belle, stared at the slit window, for lack of any where better to cast her eyes, as she took a mouthful of the warm oatmeal. Only by sticking her hand out the small opening could she even feel that there was an outside to it, everything always remained so dark she could not see what the land about her looked like.

"Tell me, does the sun ever rise in this land?" She asked mildly.

Rumple grinned widely once more; now back in his element of domination with the knowledge that he now controlled all life about this woman. "Oh not where you are, dearie. The best you'll get is variations in darkness, at the height you just might be able to make out the black silhouettes about your comfy abode." He cackled evilly.

"Pity." She replied evenly, as if his words had not stung her. Taking another spoonful of oatmeal she seemed to talk more to herself than him. "I should have liked to see it one last time."

The fiend forced himself not to frown at her calm words. This was not at all how he had expected this to go. He wanted to laugh as he saw tears streaming down her face, wails, begging, and cries that resounded around the stone walls. But none came; only a slight stalwart nod to the fact that she was his now and nothing would be the same again.

"Thank you all the same." She spoke again jarring him from his thoughts.

This time he couldn't even mask the confusion upon his scaled features. "Thank you?" He echoed, his brow furrowed, as if he'd never heard the word in his life.

Belle smiled thinly, raising the steaming bowl. "For breakfast." She clarified shyly. Picking at the last remnants left in the bowl she shrugged timidly. "You didn't have to bring me anything, so thank you."

Even though she had become his, Belle had swore he would not change her. She would not allow him to mold her into some angry, bitter, thing, twisiting her old self into something she would never recognize again. The beast might own her body, but her soul was still in her keeping.

Polite, level headed, calm, courageous, a faint knowing worry slightly wormed its way into Rumple's mind that he'd been cheated in his bargain. This woman wasn't going to fall prey to his games so readily. He could have easily named a thousand princesses' that'd be fallen apart by his schemes by now, but not her.

"You're an odd little thing." He finally spat, all humor gone. In its own way it was an admitted defeat that he could not shake her just yet.

Before she could reply he turned swiftly striding out of the cell leaving her in complete darkness once more. The slam of the door echoed about the dungeon ominously as he walked briskly through the haunted corridors, fuming and wondering all at once why he could not seem to make the woman break down.

He had ripped her away from her home, made her a slave, placed her in dark torment, and still she did not bend. Was he trying hard enough? Did he even want to? The startling thought jarred across his mind suddenly making Rumple feel something he hadn't in a very long time-panic. Was he going soft? What was it about the woman that made him feel like his malice would never faze her, but her words could rock him so?

Cursing himself he pressed forward to be away from the dungeons and the worrying thoughts that had begun to plagued him.


	3. She did what?

"She did what?" Gaston roared to the king, his maple eyes wide in disbelief.

His Highness, Maurice looked far more aged than anyone had ever seen now with Belle gone. It had only been a few days, but still he looked more elderly then all the years his subjects had gazed upon him. Turning tiredly to the most popular of Belle's suitors, his puffy eyes found the tall, rugged huntsman all knew in the kingdom who was now staring at him with incomprehension.

Courtly gossip had always been abuzz with rumors of Belle and Gaston. Love at first sight, the gorgeous beauty with the handsome man; soon to be wed. Those rumors had ground to a morbid halt after she had struck a bargain with the vile Rumple.

"She made a deal to that beast in exchange for the kingdoms safety." The king gurgled again through a racking cough that shook his seemingly bloated form.

Gaston couldn't believe it, Belle, his ticket taken away from his grasp when he had been so close to being crowned king after her fat fool of a father had passed. His hands curled into tight fists as he jerked away from the king staring out one of the many windows of the kingdom to look at the vast dark forests beyond the blankest of lush land. Gaston grit his teeth forcing himself not to punch at something. "Where has the magical fiend taken her?"

A gasp filled the court as if everyone had taken in a disbelieving breath of air at the same time. Low whispers swirled around the court like the rustling of leaves swept in the wind as they talked of Gaston's words.

"I don't know. You can't mean to go after Belle, and rescue her from that monster?" The king bubbled in shock. "Do you know what sort of power he wields?"

Gaston nodded stoically, unsheathing his blade with a practiced flourish letting the light glint off the steel. "I do, and I swear to find Belle and rescue her or die, so that she and I will become man and wife, and the kingdom will finally be whole!"

The courtiers and king were cheering at him now, their clapping and "here here's" resounding through the air. Gaston forced himself not to smirk at their witlessness; throw a little chivalry here and there, a bit of a show and you had the people rallying around you for anything.

Once he found Belle, she'd be so grateful she'd probably accept him then and there compared to the months of aversions the crafty woman had managed to conjure! There'd be no way to back out of it then, after all he'd do. Now, of course, all he had to do was find her…

~8~8~

She had cleaned. Rumplestilkin could not believe it as he strolled inside her cell. His torch flickered across the cold prison reflecting a place now cleared of the old filthy straw, some of the small bones from the long dead prisoner removed and the broken chair almost looking fixed.

He let none of his utter surprise show on his face as he turned to the woman squinting at the sudden light in her cell. "Love what you've done with the place." He sniggered impishly drumming his finger tips together as he walked about.

Belle flinched slightly at his mocking tone that almost came out like a sinister giggle. "If I must abide here, I don't have to live in squalor." She replied.

"Ah, but you won't be living here at all, dearie." He stated happily. His thin fingers picked up a piece of straw that had been stuck to the small slit of a window. He rolled it in his scaly fingers, with wide grin. That would have explained how she managed to remove the straw. "I've changed me mind." He muttered whimsically.

A spark of hope lit in Belle's heart at his words, even though she knew better than to take them at face value. "You're going to let me go?" She asked hopefully, taking a step towards him.

His reply came in loud and long cruel laughter as he chortled at her words. Bending over and slapping his knee from laughing so hard he pointed a finger at her. "Let you go! Oh that's rich, it really is! Now why would I do such a silly thing like that?"

Belle tried to turn her head away from him, not desiring to see his wicked grinning face, but he caught her chin in his hand, making her look into his gray green smiling features.

"No, no, dearie, I have found a better use for you." He smirked at Belle, his eyes searching her. He made her look at him for a moment longer before releasing her out of his grip. Smoothing out his gaily decorated clothing he smiled at her once more. "Well, let's be off." He chuckled vilely pleasant.

"Where are we-" Belle tried to ask timidly, only to have the devious fiend giggle.

Wagging his finger in front of her, he clucked in mock scold. "No spoiling the surprise, you'll find out soon enough."

The beauty stared at the ginning monster intently for a moment then sighed with a slight nod. She had to do what he wished, she'd struck the bargain.

Rumple hummed happily to himself as they strolled away from the vast dungeons. He led her through the winding corridors almost in a hop skip as he muttered old tunes to himself through the darkness that surronded them.

Through out it all Belle kept close behind him in the oppressive blackness despite her thoughts swirling about what he would possibly want her for. She prayed that it would not be the worst thing that sprung to her fertile imagination.

Though he could feel her wariness drumming in her heart, and the sadness surrounding her, it was barely causing him any fun. She had to be thinking what any woman in her situation would; what he could do to her if the mood took him?

Was it wrong he desired to take her fear away and reveal to her that even as this thing still he was not that kind of person; he thought to himself?

"Is it far, where you are taking me?" She asked to combat the silent darkness around her.

Rumple shrugged, his voice nonchalant. "Not at all, dearie. In fact-" He paused, before pushing open two oaken double doors. "We've arrived."

Belle gasped at the sight of the huge hall before her. Pictures, tapestries, vases, states, pieces of armor, the most luxurious things gold or magic could conjure stood tuck into every nook and niche of the castle before her. Cabinets with glass fronts were almost fit to burst with little trinkets stowed away helter-skelter, as if he had simply tossed them in to be out of the way. It was all covered in thick layers of gray dust, or small holes in the cloth were starving moths had come to sate their appetite.

Rumple couldn't help but smile as she watched her look about in awe as his massive estate. "Tell me when you've stopped gawking so we can continue." He chuckled; not evilly however, in fact it nearly felt genuine as he leaned his elbow against the door.

Belle blushed slightly at his words, her cheeks erupting into a faint rosy pink. "Sorry. I've never seen such a place though, even in my father's palace."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it." Rumple sniggered as he traipsed leisurely down the halls. He almost bit back those words, knowing how it would hurt her to remind that this was all she'd ever see, but as usual he let his cruelty take precedence.

She became quiet then, her one moment of openness with the devious Rumple vanishing. The pair walked silently down the halls till coming to a small unadorned door. With a flick of his hand, the beast opened it revealing another long but small corridor with no lavishness to be found, but only sconce every so often that were lit with flickering torches that cast eerie shadows across the stone walls.

Having grown up in a palace, Belle knew exactly where the hall would lead-servant quarters. Coming to another door tucked away almost unnoticed between to columns, Rumple opened it with another faint wave of his hand revealing a small but quaint room.

"I like my tea at seven sharp." Rumple stated with a grin as Belle walked inside.

Before she could even ask him to specify the door closed on her with a sharp thud. "Wait!" She exclaimed, her hand trying to turn the knob. No surprise, it never budged.

With a sigh of defeat and exasperation she turned from the door leaning her back against it. The room was lit with candles that displayed a bed, night stand, and chest at the foot of the bed.

Arching an eyebrow the curious Belle walked to the chest wondering what it could possibly contain. Some instinct told her to leave it be, but Belle had always been renowned for her curiosity. Kneeling she opened the chest to find a set of blue and white clothes, lovely and efficient.

Looking about as if the devious fiend could have been casually standing about, she picked up the clothes admiring them. They would fit her perfectly she knew holding it up to her body. Perhaps he could have wanted her to wear them; it would be more practical than a tattered gown. As she placed it back in the chest another sight caught her eye, a window. Small and square with bars that looked newly put in, but covered with blue curtain.

Walking to the window she pulled the blue drape back to see the moon illumining the landscape of what she could see as a dense forest with mountains that gleamed with frosted caps of snow running in jagged peaks behind the black woods. A sudden realization that she would be able to see the sun when it rose dawned on her unexpectedly.

Even though she could only guess that he wanted her to clean up the filthy place; why had he moved her here instead of keeping her in the tower? A smile slowly played upon her face as she turned to the door as if he could have been standing on the other side. She wrapped a finger around one of her brown tresses as she'd often do when she was thinking, wondering why had Rumple opted not to keep her locked up.


	4. How Odd

_A/N: I'm back! Yeah, sorry I got a little…off track. In fact another story off track, but I'm back now! Thanks all readers and reviewers!_

**~8~8~**

Belle woke well before dawn to the sound of her door squeaking opening on its own magical accord; releasing her from her room for the day. The hallway was dark, but the sudden cool air that streamed in and brushed against her with its cold wisps that jettisoned her from the heavy sleep she'd been falling in and out of.

At the revelations she was now free to traverse the castle, Belle quickly jumped out of bed, and zipped out completely forgetting the pair of clothes tucked away in the chest that Rumpelstiltskin had so graciously donated to her.

As she exited the room, her permanent accommodations, she hoped, it had then become the quest of finding out what doors led to where in the servant's quarters. Thankfully, the first door she had come upon was a wash room allowing her a brief few moments to wash her face in cold clean basin of water taking the last remnants of sleep from her fogged mind and able to concentrate upon the quick illumination of day.

Afterward freshening up slightly, she's spent a good 15 minutes trying to find which door led to the kitchen and pantry. She was surprised to find how well the larder had been stocked with food, even a few pleasantly pungent ingredients she'd never seen before hung from parts of the rafters for easy access.

Once being a noble, she'd never cooked anything in her life aside from the one or two dishes that had piqued her curiosity every now and again. And even those the always patient cooks in her fathers castle had helped her with.

She grimaced as she began to slice bread she had found in a cupboard, realizing she'd have plenty of time to learn, but not this morning when she her new 'home' was still foreign territory. Fortunately tea boiling came natural in her limited cooking skills as well as toasting thick slices of bread over a banked cooking fire.

As she placed the items on a silver tray, she knew that'd be all she'd be able to do for the time being. Hopefully he would be a trifle lenient being her fist day and all and excuse the poor pittance for breakfast she offered him. His taste were probably more accustomed to eggs done up in some fanciful way and caviar or some nonsense.

Even as she stacked the meager meal on the fine quality silver tray, she knew her time to serve breakfast was nearing. He said he wanted it exactly at seven, and that time was closing in rapidly.

Now came the frantic scramble to retrace her steps and find what door led to the main hall. Belle stalked out carefully into the dim walkway, her hands laden with her burden as she half focused of keeping the tray from upturning and finding the right door. Since last night everything looked different, the shadows gone and the darkness less so. She recognized nothing in the myriad of the dim apertures of hallways and corridors that seemed to lead on forever in any direction and into a dank dusty darkness that promised nothing but horrors at the end of their paths.

Being that everything had gone modestly smooth so far, Belle was only mildly surprised that attempting to locate the correct door was far easier said than done as she had scoured what seemed like the whole lower tier of the castle opening doors and peering through crannies trying to find her way along to the main hall.

Murmuring franticly under her breath, she beseeched whatever deities might be listening that she would find it in time…

Sunlight filtered through the grimy windows of the main hall in long golden slanted shafts as the thing known as Rumpelstiltskin waited for his morning tea. He ponderously watched dust particles dance lazily in the streaks of light that managed to break through the thick curtains, as he rapped his thin wiry fingers along his chairs plush armrest in a rhythmic drumming.

In the silence his heightened hearing listened out for her as she precariously raced through the winding halls trying to find the right door in the maze he called his home. No doubt she was lost and bewildered at such a plethora of matching doors that lined the halls of his lavish citadel.

Rumpel smiled slyly as he plied his fingers together in amusement; hearing her footsteps nearing closer and closer in the frantic, yet never dull, game of find the correct door or face the master's wrath.

His slave had come to the right door now, he could tell. The beast could almost here her baited breath catch in her throat to see if it truly was the right opening that led to the main hall. She paused for a moment, perhaps adjusting her burden of tray and kettle and turned the golden latch with a quiet prayer murmured under her breath. She would enter in three…two…one…

"Right on time, dearie." Rumple crowed with a smile just as the main door creaked open and she peaked inside.

Belle's sigh of relief was almost audible as she padded into the huge room. She balanced a tray carefully in her hands that held a blue and white ceramic kettle and cups, along with a matching plate that was stacked with warm toast and a small pot of raspberry jam that sat to the side.

The beautiful captive offered him only a wary glance at his words as she carefully laid the tray on the wooden table, turning back to the new task of tea serving. Her heart was still pounding at just how close she had come to being late and the unpleasantness she was sure would have followed.

"Two sugars, please." Rumple stated with a thin smile, as he watched the woman try to concentrate upon her task.

She nodded but didn't look up as she poured the steaming liquid precariously into a cup. The warm steam swirled up in thin meandering strands about her face, the delicious aroma wafting across the room making Belle's stomach grumble faintly.

The beast stared at her, a slight smile upon his thin lips. "From now on you will dust my collection, launder my clothing, scrub the floors, cook the meals, and clean the rooms."

"I understand, master." Belle replied with a slight nod in his direction then turned back to her delicate job with the thin ceramic cup; careful not to spill a drop as she began to bring it to him. She'd almost done it perfectly!

"You will also skin the children I hunt for their pelts." He added nonchalantly as if it were an every day happenstance.

Belle's shoulders slumped, her hands falling to the side making the cup tumble away as her jaw dropped in disbelief.

Rumple grinned widely, a small chuckle passing his lips. "A quip." He revealed with a nasty smirk and a suppressed giggle.

The beauty's face was a curious mixture of relief and crestfallenness as she bent down to pick up the cup. So close to doing her first thing right, and he had to yank the rug from under her.

Warm brown liquid pooled about her feet and soaked into the no doubt expensive rug as she grabbed the fallen cup still rolling slightly from side to side. There was a slanted chip in it, but otherwise just as good.

"Uh…sorry." She said warily while hefting the cup up bashfully showing the chip. "It's still good, just a slight chip." Her gaze fell on the calm Rumple worriedly as if she expected him to explode at her clumsy blunder. Who knew what could set off the temper she was sure her master had lurking beneath the gray gold surface of his scaly skin.

He stared at her for a moment then the cracked ceramic held in her delicate hands. He had never used that particular tea set anyhow; a part of him wondered why he'd never noticed it before; it was actually quite a lovely set in a plain sort of way. "It's just a cup." Rumple shrugged uncaringly with a faint heave of his shoulders and a slight flutter of his fingers. "Now to continue, after you complete your chores, or I dismiss you for the day, you may use the rest of the time at your leisure."

Leisure, Belle forced herself not to grimace as she plated him a few pieces of toast slathered in jam. She was dubious she'd have any of that. Just one look at the Dark Castle had her wondering would it take an eternity to clean.

She nodded again, filling the cup anew with two more sugars just the way he liked it. She'd take to mind these little things he asked, so that it would already be on hand again.

"Have you eaten?" He inquired quite suddenly; peering at her from over the cups new cracked rim as he took a sip.

Belle shook her head. "No, I was planning to take my breakfast in the kitchen." She revealed.

"You'll share your meals with me from now on." He commanded mildly almost as if she might have had a choice to say no.

She turned to him, her eyes searching his inquisitively at the strange request but nodded dutifully. Back in her father's castle, the servants never ate with the nobles, but she wasn't in her father's castle anymore, this was a place with a different set of rules she'd now have to conform and abide by. If the master wished to break bread with her, then so be it.

~8~8~

The first day was mostly getting to know her was around the Dark Castle. The beauty made mental notes of what she should clean first and things that could wait. She discovered the closets that housed dusty buckets, mops, brooms, and other cleaning implements that had gathered dust of their own, with more than a few spiders haven spun their lavish sticky homes in the never used items.

The beauty grimaced stoically as she picked up one of the ancient brooms, hefting it like it was a spear. This would be her new friend, along with the mop and the bucket in her now eternal quest to keep the huge palace clean of the filth and debris of time.

She grimaced as her hands traced the patterns on the coarse grain of the wood over the broom handle. This wasn't a life she'd particularly wanted for herself but if the hand of fate had dealt her this then she would simply have to do accordingly.

As the day went on, the former nobleman's daughter busied herself frantically to learn the main rooms she could start on and then spread out from there. Occasionally she'd find the oddity, Rumpelstiltskin watching her, his midnight eyes narrowed in her direction searching and scrutinizing her; probably making sure she didn't try to escape.

If he knew her at all, he would have known not to waste his time thinking she'd run. Belle had never once in her life dishonored an agreement, and being that this one held the fate of her family and friends, she was loathe even to the thought of running from the…thing she'd sold herself to.

It was late in the evening before the beauty allowed herself a slight reprieve. Belle sighed in defeat as she leaned against a cool gray pillar to steady herself from toppling. She closed her cobalt eyes, her hands curled into tight fists as thoughts of her life that she'd been trying to subdue under the pretenses of hard work began to plague her.

And here she assumed she would live more than a normal woman's life. Long ago, the intelligent beauty had sworn to herself she'd not be as one of the other noble's daughters or richly endowed princesses. She had stalwartly refused to be a painted, pretty sheep whose only use was looking fashionable on a strong or rich mans arm at balls or diner parties; who fluttered her eyelashes and swooned at his daring stories of courage.

She wouldn't fall in love with the first handsome lunk that came her way offering her flowers and outdated words of affection that would be whispered in her ear. She wouldn't become some mild mannered house wife who ruled the day to day of her husbands castle while he was out and about making the 'important' decisions of their home by tacitly planning the war strategies and new ways to help his people.

No, Belle wanted to be a woman who used her wit and mind to stand beside her mate, not in the back tucked away in a castle as a cloak is tucked away in an attic chest; only to be brought out for special occasions.

Even with Gaston she had planned to have far more than the normal matronly duties simply because he was nearly incompetent in every other aspect save fighting. For all his knowing bravado he wouldn't even realize she was ordering things about. It wouldn't have been her perfect marriage, with Gaston, but at least she'd be doing more than knitting quilts with pale faced ladies in waiting and tittering about the latest gossips around the lands through sips of dark cordial and sweetly laced implications.

Now even _that _was out of the question. Now she found herself stripped of all title and prestige, to drudge for the most feared and hated monster in the entire realm. She wasn't in her most dreaded situation, of being a pretty little mannequin for a husband, but she was very close.

But perhaps this life wouldn't be so terrible, Belle thought with her last scrap of hope she managed to bring out for the day. Always an optimist, her strongest silver lining in the dark overcast clouds that promised nothing but despair and misery peaked through. She would still work and see progress she had made even if it was now in the most physical way. The balustrades would become polished, the furniture cleaned, his trinkets and collection kept in tip top order with out a spec of dust on any surface. There would be a satisfaction in her labors albeit small, not like managing a blossoming kingdom, but there no less.

"If this shall be my fate I shall make it a content one." She promised under her breath with a determined nod before going down to explore another stretching corridor that seemed to meander along for eternity.

~8~8~

Well her first day hadn't gone terrible, Rumpel thought as he watched the beauty scrub the last of the diner dishes. Her chestnut hair that she'd pinned up to keep from becoming wet in the soapy water fell in tiny wisps about her face, annoying her every time one blew in front of her vision.

She scrubbed with a vigor, sending particle of food floating in the water as she attempted to hum a little tune; but even that seemed to exhausted for her. It had been a long day for her, he knew, getting used to such a place and all.

She'd only dropped one thing, which he surmised was a plus to add to the day. A cup, some useless silly trinket that had four more of the same types. After she had left the tray to go figure out her chores, he'd picked up the tiny item fingering it gently as he peered at the slanted chip. He should have thrown it away, but had placed it back on the silver gilded tray instead. It was of course, just a cup.

"My, my if you attacked the ogres with the same gusto as you do pots and pans, I don't think your people would have needed my aid at all." He observed wryly from the darkness; allowing himself to be seen now that he had gotten bored of watching from the shadows.

A tiny yelp of surprise pierced her throat as she dropped the heavy pan in the soapy water causing a loud splash, and spun around to see him coolly reclining against the table, his arms crossed against his brown brocade vest and black eyes shimmering mischievous delight.

Her heart pounded like mad in her chest at the sudden noise when she had thought she was all alone. She had had a feeling something had been watching her, but had accounted it for the ominous air that seemed to enshroud the Dark Castle; not that he could be lurking in the shadows like some hungry predator.

"I didn't know you were here." She replied evenly; gathering back some of her demeanor. "Is there anything you need; more straw, a midnight snack?"

The beast snorted and rolled his eyes comically at her words in amusement. Him want a midnight snack? He wasn't a coddled five year old. "No, I only came to tell you that it's rather late. Time to go back to your room." He stated in his ever cheerful attitude.

"You don't have to lock me up." Belle sighed as she dried her hands on a rag. "I won't try to run. We had a deal and I shall abide by it."

"I like to lock up all my things at night- habit, Dearie." He replied nonchalantly tacking on his sinister little chortle. Pointing a finger to the direction of the door it swung open at his silent command with a faint hum of magic gliding through the air. "Off with you now, I'm sure you'll need your beauty sleep." He sniggered.

She was tired, there was no denying that. Her back ached, her feet hurt, and she felt totally crumpled. Flashing him a hard fought weak smile, she nodded to him once, gratefully. "Thank you." She replied quietly as she dipped out of the kitchen.

As she left, Rumpel made sure his features were carefully neutral to her observations. How odd, why did he all of a sudden sense a tingling warmth when she did that little smiling thing at him. Was it the sheer novelty of a smile directed at him? He pondered the sensation he felt, his scaled brow furrowed, as he trekked down the dark corridors back to his awaiting wheel.

As he sat to spin the straw into fine golden thread he couldn't shake the feeling of that look. It was as if it lingered on him like a specter haunting his person, of a fragrance of spring that hung to his clothes.

He snorted derisively once as the coarse straw and twine passed through his pinched fingers. That smile…how odd indeed.


	5. Forgiven

_A/N: Thanks readers and reviewer. You all are lovely ^.^_

**~8~8~**

Rumpelstiltskin was not in a good mood by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, scathing raging, hot fury would have best described it. Regina, of course, was always was the prime source for his blistering irritation. Once again that witch who ruled the realms by the sea and the enchanted glades was trying to stifle his business.

First it was couples in love she managed to edge her way between at times to cause discord, and others it was as if she was simply doing things to thwart him knowing it angered him to no end.

The devious beast let out an annoyed snort at the thought of that mermaid having asked Regina for help instead of he. Dealing with the red head mermaid would have been fun, and he could have claimed her fathers oh so shiny and powerful trident from the aging merman to add to his already rather copious collection.

Yes, having his business stolen by a hard faced, pretentious peacock who claimed herself a powerful sorceress did not tend to put the magical monster in any particular happy mood.

"That insolent, crafty, foolish witch!" Rumpel muttered angrily under his breath as a curse as he walked back to his grand home.

With a flick of the wrist the huge double doors that sat ominously past his draw bridge creaked open slowly as if moaning at the thought of having to move. The imp didn't wait for them to be drawn open in full, but managed to slips inside by a tiny slit and closed them back with another twitch of the wrist.

The few weeks his pretty little slave girl had been here, the entire castle had stopped smelling like a crypt thick with a musty tomb odor and dankness like living mold that crept along the stone walls. Instead, things were slowly being renewed back to life as things became scrubbed and polished and waxed. Even his wild outlandish clothes had begun to lose the sickly sweet odor of magic that had been layered thick with his conjuring and permeated on them for centuries. They smelled fresh with the faintest hint of lilac now; a fragrance he would only admit to himself and never to his servant that he truly did like.

Little facts that she was truly working hard did nothing to balm his anger as he stomped through the house, lurking almost like the legendary beast rumors whispered that he was. He was hungry and he desired his midday meal a bit early from the usual time Belle brought it to the main hall. Of course he'd have to find her first to tell her that.

His brow furrowed angrily as he traversed the slowly brightening halls now with clean portraits and knight's armor stands that gleamed with fastidious scrubbing. Fresh torches and candles were being replaced every week to give the halls a wide bright clean feeling that he was starting to despise.

But where was Belle? She wasn't in any of her usual haunts, dusting or sweeping to keep things in tip top order. A growl rumbled in Rumpelstiltskin throat as he turned a corner to be met with a flight of winding stairs; if she was slaking off…

He scaled the stairs two at a time, cursing Regina the pretentious sorceress, Belle the slave, and all women in general; they were all trouble. He barely finished scaling the last step when he finally heard the faintest echo of her humming. His body immediately turned back towards the stairs, an even deeper grimace forming on his face. Always in the last place you look; she had been in a side room.

Now with his mood thoroughly despoiled the fiend tried hard to keep his temper in check as he raced down the stairs to confront his Belle.

~8~8~

The heavy but dulled thud of the huge double doors of the main entrance made Belle jump slightly in alarm. So long alone in the huge domicile could put any person on edge. The dark winding stairs cases that led to heaven knew where inviting you to scale them in its own curiously macabre way, flickering torches that cast odd shadows of terror across the cold walls, and wind that hissed and screeched though cracks made the hairs on the back of her neck stand erect as she walked down the corridors and hallways.

She breathed a shallow sigh of relief as she continued dusting the old grand vase on the pedestal. It was alright now that the master that held the Dark Castle in check had returned.

Almost immediately she could feel the haunted thick presence of the keep shrink back at the very presence of the master. He was in control and whatever sinister air that endowed the castle knew that all to well.

Listening carefully, she heard his foot steps going fainter away from her direction in the room, usually he came to talk to her first ask about anything disturbing, and then pop off to his apothecary. With a faint heave of her shoulders the beauty dismissed the oddity and went back to her task of cleaning the fragile items in the room.

Quite suddenly the door slammed open behind her, with a great whoosh of air that made her skin crawl and heart race.

"Belle!" Rumpel barked out her name a trifle harder than he had intended, but at the moment didn't give the thought of the volume of his voice much of his time.

The beauty squeaked in surprise, her whole body jumping in fear and in doing so sending the fragile vase tumbling from its already precarious stony perch and onto the cold castle floor.

Before the startled servant could even try to move for it, the expensive, fragile vase shattered into a thousand pieces of brightly colored glimmering shards at her feet.

She stood there frozen in time for a moment, looking upon the trinket so beautifully crafted and painted gone to waste, and worst, the beast behind her she could feel angrily moving to stand beside her.

Within a few steps Rumpel stood by her side staring at the mess cascaded on the floor. He had liked that vase, which was why he had made it stand out from the others in such a deliberate manner. "Belle, you bumbling oaf!" He snarled through his small sharp teeth as he jerked around to face her.

He was as angry as Belle had ever seen; his lips were thin and tight almost like one grim gray line, as his midnight eyes held a fire of rage behind their onyx orbs. And for the first time, she found that she truly was afraid of him.

"F-forgive me you…you s-startled me." She replied meekly, but even that excuse felt even weaker than her failing voice.

He cocked his head slightly to one side, a grin of pure malice etching into his face, but in no way taking any of the fury out of his eyes. "Startled? I _startled_ you, Dearie?" He hissed the words out, making Belle's heart lurch faster in terror. He chuckled mirthlessly sending an icy shiver down the beauty's spine. "I'm going to do more than just 'startle' you!" He roared the grin fading like it had never been.

Belle, for all her fear at that moment, still held her mental capacities intact. His evil snarl, his venomous words, all prompted one thing in her mind-run.

Before he could even take a step she flung herself to the door, moving at top speed as she hitched her blue dress up so that she was certain it wouldn't get caught underfoot. She didn't look back, she didn't have the courage to; fearful she'd see him almost upon her his glistening talons grabbing at her…and then what?

Her breath bubbled out in ragged gasps as she raced through the halls. For one moment she glanced at the huge double doors that led to the grounds, then the forest, but she immediately shook the thought away. A promise was a promise even if she felt she was running for her life.

Over the past few weeks she'd become adept at maneuvering through the lower tier of the castle which she was much grateful for now that she was trying to out distance the masters fiery wrath. She knew the first floor pretty well, which only led to the question where would she hide.

Hiding of course, seemed the only rational thing to do. What does one do, when the most powerful man in the world is furious with you? Hiding is all she could do, Belle thought as she scurried along the dark halls. She would cloister herself away until she thought that he had calmed do-.

Her thoughts came to a grinding halt as she smacked right into the master of the castle.

She truly hadn't seen him before she crashed into him it was as if he had simply appeared out of thin air or materialized through the thick stone wall which might have been the best explanation.

She reeled back, slightly stunned by walking straight into him, her head spinning slightly as she blinked rapidly to adjust her eyes to the blackness that pooled around her. He looked even angrier than before, his breathing heavy and oozing fury, and even the way he strode slowly towards her reminded her of some huge rabid predator that she had stumbled across. Gulping in fear she thought perhaps running hadn't been the most ingenious idea.

Rumpel crossed his arms as he stepped under a torch light, his face was etched into a grimace with the same anger now stoked even higher than it previously had. To think, this slip of a woman had actually tried to run away from him. He could have easily hunted her down to the ends of the earth if that's where she had ran, but she hadn't even dare leave his citadel to seek safety. In different circumstances the thought might have amused him, now it only helped to fuel his fury.

"You actually tried to run away from me in my own castle." He spat acidly at her as if she were a moron. "You'd have a better chance trying to outrun a tiger while you're both locked in the same cage!"

Looking at the sheer fury wallowing in his midnight eyes that were narrowed so hatefully towards her, Belle couldn't help but try and back away. This time however there was no door to run through, no exit to be given. Her back hit the cold stone wall; finally trapped.

She tried to say something, but her mouth felt dry as a desert, her tongue refusing to form the slightest hint of a phrase for mercy. Her breath hitched in her throat, but declined to come out as she was paralyzed in the plethora of terror she was sure that awaited her. Some times having a vivid imagination could be a curse when a beast had you in a no way out situation.

His hand darted out like lightening incarnate to get her in his claws where there would truly be no escape. Belle screwed her eyes shut, her entire body tensing and taut, hands balled into tight fists by her sides, and jerking her head, to the side hoping the blows didn't hurt too much.

Rumpel paused at her terrified demeanor and wasn't exactly sure why. He had a host of ideas in his head that involved him punishing her; turning her into a toad for a few hours, making her scrub the entire kitchen floor twice before he let her finish up, destroying a whole room she had just cleaned, or even taking what little she had away.

None of the thought however involved beating her, which she obviously thought he meant to by her reaction.

He was shocked and more than a trifle worried at how quick the hottest of his rage was quelled at the sight of her helpless at his hand, simply waiting for the blows to come. He didn't want to hurt her, well not in that way…never like that.

His hand was inches from grabbing her arm but slowly he let it swing back to his side uselessly. As every second passed he could feel the flames of his anger dying away into nothingness.

After a few moments, Belle warily opened an eye, confused but not ungrateful no blow had come. But her flamed curiosity begged to be answered why he stayed his hand when she had been so sure he meant to hit her.

He stood a respectable distance away, not out of arms reach, but far enough, his chest was heaving greatly like a bellow as it seemed to her that he was getting reigns of his temper. Breath began to flow back into her, body, her shaking steadying somewhat.

"Did you think I was going to hit you, Dearie?" He asked at length, a tiny bit of the normal Rumpel edging back into his voice.

She only replied with a wary nod, not trusting her voice or the words that might come out of it to rekindle his anger.

The fiend gave a slight chuckle, shaking his head sagely. "I'm none to keen on damaging my own property." With a seemingly bored flick of the wrist a whole line of doors opened at his magical command, all leading in one direction. "Still, neither am I fond of you breaking my other trinkets. To the dungeons with you now. A few hours and a night in your old guest room, might teach you to be more careful."

She almost refuted his words. Ridiculously, stupidly, she almost let a reply slip out of her mouth some where along the lines of it wasn't really her fault that the vase broke. Fortunately the last ember of his anger still glowered in his eyes, almost in challenge of her to say a word. Shutting her mouth, the beauty inclined her head with a small nod before walking towards the 'guest room'.

As he watched her depart, shaken and wary of him, the imp felt something he hadn't in a very, very long time. Something he didn't think he possessed any longer, a weed that had suddenly sprung up inside him. Guilt.

~8~8~

A day later that guilt had festered to full force inside the fiend known as Rumpelstiltskin. It had wrapped around him in his sleep, bothered him when he tested his concoctions, and on whole refused to leave him be.

It hadn't been her fault that the vase had broken; if he hadn't stormed in there like a crazed animal she'd never have dropped it. And then to top it all off he had punished her for his blunder.

Belle wasn't stupid; she had to know all these things as well. He could only imagine how much she hated him while she slept on the frigid stone of the cell shivering with cold. Being punished for something that wasn't your fault could make anyone bitter; he knew that personally.

He held back a tremulous sigh as he walked back to the cell. He could have magically ordered the door to let her out, but he wanted…needed to see what was lurking behind her startling sapphire eyes, to see just how much hate had been built up for him. He wasn't exactly eager to find out, but his mind would not stop its foolish thoughts about her until he knew.

His talons curled around the heavy iron ring that served as the knob. He let our a deep unsteady breath and hoped she couldn't hear it escape his lips as he put on a neutral uncaring air and swung the door open.

She was already standing calmly by the high slit window waiting her release. When she heard the door open, she turned to move out, only to pause seeing him there. She too must have thought he'd open the door magically to avoid contact. Still, she walked towards him warily as if he were some dangerous animal she needed to get pass.

Belle stood at arms length away from the master of the castle, he showed nothing on his gray gold features, but his eyes were slowly scanning her own in a way that made Goosebumps rise on her chilled flesh.

They stood there in drafty silence for a few heartbeats, before Belle cleared her throat tremulously. "You're going to have to move if you want your tea at seven." She stated quietly.

His eyes widened slightly at her words as he scuffled to the side. "Oh…um, yes. I'll be down shortly."

Her brow quirked up slightly at his odd mannerisms, but she walked past him, almost looking as if she was stifling a smile. Why was he acting so awkward; it seemed more that he had been thrown in a cell rather than she.

As she left, Rumpelstiltskin tried to understand it, why on earth was hate nowhere in her eyes? Did she not despise him yet? Did she not curse his name like all others?

He had been banking on hate to flicker in her eyes to justify what he had done and rid him of the foul feeling of guilt about his treatment towards her, but instead he found the emotion almost sickeningly churning inside. With a grimace, he realized somthing had to be done about this old feeling that refused to grant him peace.

About midday he was slowly, but steadily turning large quantities of straw into flaxen strands of gold. Usually this was a day he'd be out and about causing mischief, but the resurrected thought of guilt refused to leave him alone no matter what he tried. The only thing he could think of to assuage the unpleasant emotion was try very, very hard to forget; so he spun and spun and spun trying to forget what the feeling of guilt was.

Belle had only said a few words to him, no doubt still angry of the unjust treatment. Things had been painfully awkward since he had let her out. A quiet word or two here, a wary question there from either himself or her. They were practically dancing on eggshells, every time they got in spitting distance of one another.

Now after all the time they had spent going out of their way to avoid one another they found themselves in the same room. She perched on a ladder by his floor to ceiling windows, and he slowly, but desperately plying his wheel to forget that look of stark fear on her face and the feelings of guilt that refused to leave.

As Belle tired to yank down the thick, dusty curtain practically an all-you-can-eat feast for the moths, she couldn't help but sneak a glance in her master's direction. He didn't quite seem himself, and she didn't know why. Whatever it was, she wanted to forget what had happened yesterday and go back to how it had been; talking regularly, and putting up with a quip or to of his. Anything would be better than this…awkwardness.

With a quiet frustrated sigh, she knew he wasn't going to get the ball rolling again. Even him, the powerful man in the world chose to ignore a problem, hoping it would work itself out. She knew without a doubt, she was going to have to be the brave one here.

"Why do you spin so much?" Bell asked suddenly, before she even knew it was she that said it. Her heart lurched in her chest at the sudden words; wary of what he might do or say for interrupting him. But then again she had to start some where.

Rumpel paused the wheels hypnotic cycle, her words, piercing through his numb meditation of suppressing memories and feelings. "It helps me forget." He admitted simply, his voice quiet as he traced the fibers of gold through his fingers.

"Forget what?" She asked curiously, searching him from her lofty heights.

Forget that he had tried to take his anger out on her, forget the fear he had seen radiating from her body when she thought he was going to hit her, forget the guilt he felt for sending her to sleep in the cold pitch blackness of a prison cell, forget this new feeling he wasn't… couldn't understand.

He said none of this out loud, but simply put on his usual jester grin. "I guess it worked." He giggled in his normal fashion that usually disturbed others.

To his surprise, Belle chuckled at his words, shaking her head slightly as she turned back to her task.

Now that was odd, Rumpel thought inquisitively to himself. He had supposed she would retain some sort of malice to him from yesterday, but here she was, giggling at him and his terrible humor. The sudden revelation made Rumpel pause from his spinning. She hadn't sounded angry or bitter, she sounded…normal.

Such an odd woman indeed, but he could see that she had given him an angle in which to open the door of whatever normalcy they had had prior to yesterday. "What are you doing?" He asked, as he got up from his wheel to go where she was.

Belle tugged fiercely on the curtains hoping to jar them down. She looked down at him. "It's almost spring, we should let some light it." She reveled. A sigh of exasperation fell out of her mouth as she turned to look down at him, faintly irritated. "What did you do? Nail them down?"

"Yes." He replied as if it should have been obvious. Beast didn't have open windows so all the world could peek inside to see their…beastliness.

Turning back to her task she tugged even harder, only to hear a sharp rip and then have nothing but air beneath her. A cry almost escaped her lips, but before she knew it arms were under her to hold her up.

A hard gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the features of Rumpelstiltskin up close. They were like scales almost, stuck between green, gray, and gold glimmering in the new, but dirty light of the window pane. His skin wasn't a bad color, just…odd.

He blinked rapidly in the sudden brightness, his eyes trying to adjust to the brilliance of the outside. Looking down he saw Belle staring up at him quizzically. How disgusted she must feel to be in his arms, his talons, her slaver, haven been her rescuer instead of a handsome knight in shining armor.

She did that thing again he noticed…that smile, and this time his heart felt like it stopped in mid beat, frozen in time with the rest of him. There was somthing warm about it, warmer than the sun beaming down upon them.

"T-thank you." She muttered, the smile staying in place.

Realizing she was still in his arms, the fiend placed her gently on the floor. He wiped at his black tunic with trembling hands wanting them to stop their shaking or the want to touch her again. "No matter." He replied awkwardly feeling a smile pull at his own lips.

She pointed a thumb back to the curtains. "I'll…um…just put these back up then."

He nodded slowly, and turned back to his wheel, but then again… "Eh don't bother." He stated gently, turning back to her. He licked his thin lips, not quite sure what was possessing him to do this or what this new sensation inside of him was. "I'll get used to it." He assured her.

Again they both stared at one another as if reading their thoughts. Knowing exactly what was going on in each others heads. It was his way of saying he was sorry for yesterday.

She smiled again, and he knew that all was forgiven.


	6. Gifts

_A/N: Thanks readers and reviewers! Hugs for all._

**~8~8~**

After the little ladder tumble, things seemed to go in a more intrepid flow; like a brook just coming back to life from a cold winter. It was very sparse at first, but steadily becoming stronger as the days passed.

Belle's routines became comfortingly common to the usually devious Rumpel giving him an outlet of sorts to relax. He was a creature of habit, and having everything running as it should defiantly made him feel at ease and relaxed. And in relaxing that gave him time to ponder; mostly about his little trinket, Belle.

His sharp onyx eyes would sometimes watch her from afar; afraid of what she might think if she caught him staring as she went about completing her chores or did something like redecorate a few things here and there with her feminine touch.

He allowed her some freedoms such as putting a bit of her own decorative style about his palace, for even he had to admit his sense of décor was rather lacking. Piled up dusty trinkets that glimmered through filth and grime were more decent of lumbering dragon's treasure trove than a castle. She dusted, polished, and put everything in its place so that it actually wasn't an eye sore.

It also helped that in his estimation, her very presence could brighten up the most dusty and filthy of chambers.

~8~8~

Belle finished cleaning off the large woolen rug that rested in front of the now lifeless fire place. She sneezed intermittently at the swirling dust and ash that had gathered in its fibers as she swept it all into a neat little pile of gray debris.

How could so much dust collect in one place? She grimaced as she wiped a hand over her nose and flicked the broom about to clear the rest of the mat. He truly had never cleaned this place before!

Eyes itchy and throat seemingly clogged with dust bunnies and clumps of ash, the beauty heaved a sigh and collapsed in the leather high back chair or the master's chair as she'd taken to calling it. Normally Belle didn't let any show of her exhaustion be told upon her face or body; fearful some cruel snippet might be hissed from the devious Rumpelstiltskin. But he was gone currently on business in some enchanted woods to barter with fairies; leaving her to her own devices for a time. In some way she felt it an honor that he chose to trust her so freely by leaving for large amounts of time without bothering to check in.

Coughing and sputtering from the particles of filth she tried to get comfortable in the leather chair, only to feel something pressed and pointed against her back. Trust Rumpelstiltskin to hoard some other trinket in such an inconspicuous place, Belle thought in amusement.

Belle groaned slightly as she fiddled for the object, it was of medium size but felt smoothed in her grip. As she pulled it up she found it to be a book. The leather cover and bindings were marked strangely with some sort of ancient mystical blue and red runes that were scrawled neatly on the front and practically thrummed with magic before her. And the book cover itself possessed odd shimmering in a dulled gold, made of some sort of tanned skin she didn't recognize.

Her hand smoothed over the cover trying to place the feel of its coarse texture. It felt so strange; dragon's hide perhaps? The thought of it being a dragon leather bound tome, sparked the caretakers curiously, as she held the small book in her grip. Another part of her was simply ecstatic to find that there was some form of literature in the castle.

For a woman who adored, curling up by a window sill or sitting under a shady tree to become lost in the pages of a good tome, Belle had found herself thirsting for books as a parched man did water. Of course she'd never relate her want to the master; her job was to serve, not to ask silly things such as 'may I have a book'.

Taking one furtive glance about, just in case he might be lurking nearby, the beauty pried open the book eagerly to see what laid inside its magical pages. The paper smelled a bit musty, but in a warm familiar way that made Belle feel like she was back home sitting by the fountain in the village square reading of gallant knights and wicked dragons, of love and loss, and tragedy and joy.

"The Primal Laws of Magic." She read the title aloud, before drifting back into calm silence as her eyes scanned the neatly penned words.

Rumpel leaned against the wood frame of a door, his arms crossed as he watched Belle lost in the mires of the book. He lips twitched in a smirk that was half amusement and half annoyance. This was the first instance he actually caught her slaking off, and it was rather amusing.

The beauty was absently polishing the long mahogany table in the main hall; a bit of tattered rag rotating in a small circle, yet only one hand was turned to the task as she polished the same one spot again and again. She wasn't even turned to the table or task, her nose thoroughly buried in the book so that he could only see the top of her chestnut hair from over top the tome.

By the looks of things she had gotten off to her usual start in her cleaning routine, but as time went on he could see she'd gotten far off track. He should have, and had every right to be angry, but he found himself annoyed at best by her unfocused attitude. Perhaps he was getting to soft on her?

The thought made him chuckle faintly; well enough for his servant to hear, but she didn't stir if the noise ever registered. Now feeling a trifle mischievous, the fiend walked candidly in front of her standing only inches away. He rocked back and forth on his heels waiting for her to notice him standing there.

If she even knew he was there she there was no hint of the face on her face as she flicked to another page.

"Belle." Rumpel called her name gently with a touch of amusement laced in his voice.

He wasn't surprised when she didn't respond, for she was far to enraptured in the book as she devoured what lay on the ancient pages. He stifled a sigh shaking his head sagely to her oblivious attitude. She could be so inept at times.

"Oh Belle." He tried again, his voice almost sing-song. He frowned. Nothing. Well, there was one way to fix this.

Hooking a finger over the book he pulled it down slowly so that her eyes were looking at his instead of the well worn pages.

The beauty jumped slightly, her eyes fluttering rapidly as if just awaking from a trance. "Oh! Rumpel I didn't know you were home…" She stated. A bit of pink came to her cheeks as she looked about; seemingly caught red handed in the first, and only case she had slacked off. She bit her bottom lip slightly, in a way the magical monster found very endearing, and he forced a grin not to come to his face at her reaction.

"Now just what-" He paused for a moment and flicked the book out her hand and closed it in the same smooth motion. "Do you think you are doing, Dearie?"

Belle squared her shoulder, her eyes locked to his; unafraid for whatever punishment he chose to exact upon her. "I was slacking off. I will try to not let it happen again."

She couldn't, rather, wouldn't deny it, but face whatever he chose to throw at her bravely.

Slightly put of kilter by her boldness, the beast masked his look of surprise before she could read his face. He donned his impish grin that usually spelled trouble for others as he drummed his fingers along the books spine. "So, what should be the punishment for this little blunder?"

"Whatever you think is rightful punishment for a lapse in judgment." She rebuffed plainly.

It was odd to Rumpel that she would act this way. The last time he had meant to punish her, she had bolted like a hare darting away from a starving wolf. Now she stood calm and patient; unafraid of him.

Had she stopped being afraid of him? Was she even afraid to begin with? Perhaps that day when she'd ran he'd just as she had said 'startled' her.

He stared at her a moment, feeling the warmth he always felt when she was near come springing forth. Shaking his head, a slight chuckle rumbled out his throat. "Whatever shall I do with you, Belle?"

The words suddenly made his mouth feel full of cotton. His cheeks turned a bright red, but it never showed masked behind his gray-gold flesh. A few images of what to do with her involuntarily burst into his mind, making his blood run hot but also feel embarrassed in front of her. He hadn't had these feelings for a very long time, and having them for her made him feel vulnerable and awkward.

"Could you even understand this book?" He asked quickly; fearful she might suspect something as if his severely inappropriate thoughts were plastered on his forehead and she would run in appall.

"Not much." Belle admitted with a shrug, none the wiser of the thoughts that had cascaded into her master's mind. "It was interesting though; as if I was beginning to understand what sort of power you wield."

Rumpel frowned as he looked at the old book. "Interesting." He echoed.

~8~8~

More often than not Rumpel often speculated Belle's interests, and the day he had caught her with the book only added fuel to that particular fire. She didn't seem crushed at all with the knowledge that she'd never again be able to attend another socialite formal with all the well known elites, or be pandered to and waited upon. No, those things never held any regret or interest to her that they were gone, but he had noticed her rather peculiar fascination with books.

It had started with an old leather bound tome he'd left out. Nothing fancy, just a few studies on cantrips and conjurations that he'd left by his chair nestled by the fireplace.

He had come back, as quiet as a ghost as he sometimes was wont to do, to make sure his slave wasn't slacking off. Usually she wasn't; always making herself useful in some manner, but that day he had caught her red handed absently wiping down a table that hardly needed any attention, her nose tucked away in the tome.

Her cobalt eyes moved hastily as she seemed engrossed in the words. Could she even understand them? Hardly, he surmised with an indifferent snort, but he still scolded her in his devilish whimsical way for her for slacking off and reading things that were not for her eyes.

After their little chat, he had condemned her to the dungeons for a night in the blustery cold and mildewed cell that become known sinisterly in one of his cruel quips as the guest room.

That was her punishment usually, when rare chances did occur for such measures. A few nights sleeping on the frigid stone always got his point across that he could be rather nasty and cruel if she fell out of line.

The reading of books hadn't stopped after that incident. However, he did note she made certain all her chores were at an end and there was nothing more he required of her before she tried to read one of the few books nestled away on a far too large shelf that she discovered a day after the one book she had previously found.

He knew about it of course, but allowed this small freedom as well so long as her chores had been completed. No sense in not letting her have a few luxuries after all; he wasn't cruel.

She couldn't be all to pleased with the reading selection, Rumpel surmised. His fingers tapped against his chin, before he rubbed it ponderously. Surely she didn't understand a meaning of any of it, for all his books related to magic or the ins and outs of certain potions. But she seemed to read simply for the enjoyment of reading. It was a favorite, only, past-time she thoroughly enjoyed despite the dull literature gathering dust on a large lonely book shelf.

Perhaps…but no, with a slight shake of his head he tried banishing the sudden thought away as quick as it had pervaded his mind. Yet on it came anyway, persistently gnawing away like some gluttonous beast that absorbed his thought.

He quirked his head slightly to the left as he peered at her working through a magical scrying bowl in his apothecary. Perhaps she would enjoy more…interesting literature than the sparse tomes his home presented.

They wouldn't be difficult to acquire, a few spools of golden twine could have him a library practically bursting with books of the best and finest quality.

"But you don't need a library." He murmured admonishingly to himself as he turned away from his spying to focus on the vials that rested tenuously on the apothecary table. The crystal bottles churned ominously with a green vicious fluid that was almost syrupy in substance.

He briefly put Belle out of his mind as he picked up a crystal vial slowly. A sly grin came to his thin lips as his eyes glimmered victoriously in success.

An elixir that could make some one shoot an arrow accurately. In fact make them the best archer in all the realms. Cackling in his normal manner, he corked the pungent liquid before putting it up to the dank lighting to admire his handiwork.

He knew of a particular up and coming outlaw in the province of Nottingham who would eagerly barter for this.

Perhaps he'd have a few books he and his merry men had pilfered from a caravan. No! The malicious grin fell from Rumple's face at the sudden thought that seemed not to have left. Trade a few measly tomes for something as powerful as becoming the best archer in the known world? But then again the monks in Nottingham and the nobles were known to hoard some of the best books.

His wiry, dexterous fingers smoothed over the warm bottle grimly at the thoughts that resurged. He hated to waste such a precious potion, but he knew rather instinctively he'd do it anyhow…

As he cast his glance down back at the rippling waters of the scrying bowl, he could only think that this…this…trinket this slave had somehow convinced him of doing something for her without even offering a word.

But then again, in his heart of hearts he yearned to do something nice for her.

~8~8~

"There." Belle smiled victoriously as she placed the last dinner dish away in the cabinet. Placing her hands on her hips she looked at her handiwork letting an immense breath of satisfaction pass her lips.

The last of the days work was done, and there was still a little light left before darkness would fall upon the castle. She reveled in the fact that perhaps she'd be able to finish the book on enchantments tonight. True, they were not the best books to cuddle up and read through but it was most certainly better than nothing.

Tossing the drying rag on the table, the beauty hurried through the castles vast corridors to the supremely sparse bookshelf that Rumpel possessed. She'd do what she'd usually do: grab the book, make sure Rumpel was content with his store of straw beside his wheel, and hunker down by the newly cleaned windows to catch the last rays of day before it sat behind the jagged peaks of the mountains or sit on the large warm rug in front of the fireplace to read by the guttering flames.

As the beauty made the last turn to the room to snatch up the book she groaned in dismay to find only dust remained on the wooden shelves that had once held the precious few books.

She knelt down to the bottom shelf where the books had sat so long unused, and trailed a finger through the grime. Even though Belle knew it to be childish she almost felt like crying. The heat and the sting of tears pressed against her cobalt eyes but she fought them back determinedly. One thing, _the _one thing she loved that she could still obtain from her old life and he took it away.

There was no doubt in her mind it had been Rumple's doing. The castle although seemingly haunted and mystical in nature did not move books. No, only the master would do something like this, but for what? Belle tried to think back at anything that could have upset him in the past few days, and she drew a flat blank. He acted as normally as the devious Rumpel could act.

Was he simply doing it to be cruel? Shaking her head slightly, Belle doubted that to be likely. The master was many things but he had never shown cruelty to her. Unless this was the start…The thought gripped her heart in sharp claws that almost felt real and ready to shred. No, he was not cruel; beasts were cruel and he was not a beast.

Still…

With a heavy sigh she stood up, a frown marbled upon her face. Whatever his reasons she would find out soon enough. Turning back to the door she marched fearlessly to confront the master of the Dark Castle.

"Did I do something to displease you?" Belle inquired as she stormed into the main hall.

She knew without a doubt, Rumpel would be situated at his wheel, plying a fortune in gold through his fingers and the slow turn of the magical wheel.

The magical fiend suppressed a teasing smile that tugged at the edges of his thin lips as Belle swept in. She had seen the books were gone, and was none to happy just as he predicted. It was the last proof to he needed to know she really did enjoy books as much as he believed.

He shrugged carelessly. "Nothing imparticular." Holding a finger as if just remembering something important he pointed to her. "Well, the chicken was a trifle dry this evening." He cackled in his impish way.

"Is that the reason you took the books away?" She forced herself not to growl out the words; in no mood to put up with his quips at present.

"Oh that." Rumpel shook his head sagely as if he didn't notice the irritation flickering in Belle's azure eyes. He flicked a hand carelessly in her direction. "I decided it was far too dangerous to have such books lying out and about. Such information is lethal in the wrong clutches, Dearie."

Belle gaped at him as if not believing what she was hearing. "Wrong clutches? Rum, I'm the only one who reads them and I wield no magic. And even if I did some how acquire magic, I would never use it against you."

"Nevertheless, this is my decision." The fiend interrupted sharply but not scolding. "I don't want anyone to have access to them. Not even you, Dearie. Are we understood?"

Never once had he looked up to face her, but only stared at the wheel he turned casually. For the second time Belle was beginning to reconsider her theory of him being cruel. She wanted to argue the matter more, but then again she was a slave. She didn't have a right to argue anything with him even though sometimes they did have their little spats.

"I understand, master." Belle spat plainly. Without another word she turned on her heel and stormed out to her room in the servant's quarters.

Rumpel jumped as he heard the door slam behind her with a strength he didn't know she had. He could only imagine her fuming on the inside that was even now slowly bubbling up. She was extremely angry, which would just make the surprise all the more enjoyable…he hoped. It had certainly cost him enough.

He could still picture the confused looks on the dirty outlaw men's faces, as he told their intrepid, love struck leader his price. Books, as many as they could gather in a week.

He had already checked on them once and they had a substantial pile hoarded up in a cave awaiting his return.

~8~8~

"I wash for him, I cook for him, I very literally _slave _for him, and he has to take my one repose of pleasure away from me." Belle grumbled as she poured oatmeal into two white ceramic bowls.

She dumped sugar into both, resisted the beckoning temptation to pour salt into his meal, and cut up an apple to place on top. Had he not ordered her to share her meals with him she would have already eaten, but he was the master and every ridiculous thing he said was law.

Belle snorted derisively as she loaded the meal on the tray. Ridiculous indeed! He called it dangerous for it to be in her hands! A danger, she wasn't a danger and would never use anything to harm him.

She had thoroughly come to the conclusion; he did it simply because something had put him in a bad mood. Despite her anger that had been nursing since last night, she refused to believe in the famed cruelty whispered by those who feared him.

Picking up the tray, she gave one last submitting sigh then walked out to greet the idiot good morning.

"I'm not going to find glass in any of my meals am I?" The fiend asked in his impish giggle as she walked into the main chamber.

Not even a hint of a smile came to her neutral face as she forced herself not to slam the tray down on the long table. After a deep breath the beauty shook her head. "No you will not." She replied simply doling out his meal before him.

He stared at her critically, his finger drumming against themselves. "Hmm, still upset are we? I never thought you one to brood, Belle."

"Yes I'm still upset." Belle admitted tartly. She paused briefly trying to calm down. "But you do what you will and I have no say in any circumstance."

Did she really think that? Rumpel thought quizzically as he stared at her. The notion was almost laughable. Her have no say? She might have well said the sky was purple.

Even in her fury he could see rather plainly she was trying so hard not to be angry and speak her mind. She was trying not to be normal Belle.

He shrugged, seemingly excepting the response as she handed him his tea. They didn't say anything afterwards, but both held their own thoughts that raged inside.

The nerve of him! Belle swallowed down the oatmeal vengefully, as she spared an angry glance or to his way. To act as if he didn't owe her a true reason, or apology! Well if that was the case he would be getting nothing but an icy shoulder from now on from her!

~8~8~

Belle sighed as she lugged a wooden bucket to the room where the books used to have been. Now that they had been removed it had shown her a whole layer of thick gray dust and grime that needed cleaning. Even though she was loathe to go into the place the shelves had to be scrubbed down and polished.

Placing the bucket gently on the floor so it wouldn't slosh the water about on her newly waxed floor, the beauty groaned quietly and straightened her figure; rubbing her lower back to get rid of an aching pain. Curse Rumpel for his moronic ways and untrustworthy demeanor, she thought angrily now standing at the door.

Anger rekindled, Belle grabbed the bucket once more and pushed open the door. Her mouth swung open, eyes widening as she gasped at what she saw.

Books. A lot of books. More books than she had ever seen in the Dark Castle. The room had been transformed magically overnight. Once barren shelves that were almost as high as the floor to ceiling windows now were filled with books. They poured and cascaded from the high perches just waiting to be read. They were very literally everywhere in the transformed room.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Belle heard the noise of the bucket dropping but for the moment paid it no heed as she stood about in awe of the transformation. Had he done this for her…?

Rumpel could have perked his ear to listen to her reaction as he spun on his wheel, but readily decided against such an action. Her emotions should be private in the room he had reserved for her. It would be her sanctuary in his sanctuary; a place where he was only welcome if she invited him in.

But still, he couldn't help but feel a thin grin steal across his gray-gold features. He would not listen in, but could well imagine the surprise she saw when she entered the room he had so well tailored. The tall azure drapes that, when open, let light from the monolithic glass panes illuminate the entire room.

He had supplied the room with large burgundy plush arm chairs and even a fire place she could stoke in the long winter nights to rally the room with warmth.

An anxiousness he couldn't suppress rumbled through his form as he tried to concentrate on the straw conjuring into strands of shimmer gold. He hoped she liked the gift; he truly, truly wanted her to like-.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as arms wrapped around his body from behind. Even without seeing her, he could smell Belle's lovely fragrance caressing about him urging his heart to beat at a faster tempo, blurring his vision with its…Belle aura about it.

"Thank you." She whispered still hugging him a moment longer. There was no care if it was crossing bounds, inappropriate, or even a line that she should not have trodden upon. But none of that mattered now. All she thought of was the tenderness of his gift to her. As she let him go her smile felt like it was from ear to ear. "Thank you." She echoed again as she departed, leaving the devious Rumpelstiltskin stunned in place.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Warning- Regina incoming, next chapter! Duck and cover!_


	7. Her Majesty

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, Lovelies! _

**~8~8~**

Regina sat reclined in her alabaster slate colored throne caught in the mires of tortuous boredom. She lounged like a lazy and inattentive cat, her maple brown eyes staring at the huge double doors of her illustrious court as she ignored the timid filthy peasantry kneeling at her dais murmuring helpless pleas for her scant mercy she deemed to show now and again.

Her delicate hand toyed with a pink conch shell that rested at the hallow of her throat and was strung upon a golden necklace. She smiled wickedly as her fingers smoothed against its abrasive sides. That pretty little mermaid's voice was captured inside whilst she vainly attempted to woo a human prince who lived on a far away coast.

Her Highness simply had to chuckle at the deliciously dark irony. How could she say she loved him being mute? Her advantageous deal only proved she could do what that gray toad Rumpelstiltskin could do, and better at that!

Rumpelstiltskin. A hiss nearly wretched out of Regina's mouth as her thin lips curled into a viscous sneer. His very name sparked a frown to bloom upon her sharp features; her eyes narrowing slightly. She hadn't spoken to the imp in over three weeks now. Usually he would come caterwauling around her, prodding her temper and stoking her wrath with his irritating snicker, cocky grin, and so far truthful words.

Oh how that galled her; to stew anger in her belly at the very thought and bring a glint of malice to her brown marble eyes! Even his very stupidly long name could cause her body to quake in gnashing loathing.

Standing up suddenly from her high backed throne, unable to stand simply doing nothing but watching the groveling peasantry come and go with their little pathetic whining of hunger and exhaustion, the queen spoke a few words magic words and disappeared in a mist of blackness that rose in chilling tendrils from the floor.

Within moments she was in her palace tower; the place where only a select few guardsmen and those who needed to be there, depending on the circumstances, were allowed entry.

She punched a fist in her hand as she began her normal pacing. The well worn wood floor under her rather stylish heels testified that this wasn't the only time she'd set up a thoughtful back and forth stride.

Rumpel, Rumpel, Rumpel. How to bring him low, how to make him sup a bitter poison that would leave him writhing upon the earth in the throes of the most horrific agony ever dealt to flesh?

As she was thinking these oh so pleasant thoughts a sharp but low thrummed whistle caught her attention. Much too attentive to simply ignore the odd sound, Regina turned about sharply to where the peculiar noise had emanated. Her guards, clad head to toe in onyx enchanted plate, were staring wide eyed in her direction. Though she had thought she was hidden from view, they appeared to be making cat calls.

The anger that had been towards Rumpel stirred to the men guarding her tower. Her faced darkened in fury as her jaw set. "Just who do you think you're whistling at like a common milkmaid, morons?" She hissed as she made herself fully known. A spell was on the tip of her tongue to turn them all into mice at their blasphemous actions.

The sentries straightened immediately, their faces turning a sickly pale as they each recognized their horrendous blunder. One of them miraculously had the courage to step forward warily, his throat warbling in fear. "Forgive us, milady. We truly weren't whistling at you." He paused for a moment, swallowing nervously as he pointed behind her. "You see there's a girl in the castle of the Dark One."

"What?" Regina snapped angrily to hide her confusion.

Jerking around she saw in the mirror, she used to talk with the other powerful wielders of magic, a girl was indeed looking into it. She had long tresses of honey chestnut curls that she tied with a blue slip of ribbon. Her eyes were like a misty fog blue that fell upon mountain valleys at dawn; entrancing like, and her dress was a sky blue with white about the short sleeves. It was modest, efficient, but very lovely on her form.

She had a duster in one hand and was staring curiously into the mirror, obviously not seeing those who were staring back at her.

Behind Regina the guards were more than a little vocal as they voiced their impression and opinions about the woman.

"Ah, a pretty one."

"I wonder where that gray lizard stole her away from. Must a left some jealous suitors behind. I know I'd be fit to be tied letting one like that get away."

"Wouldn't mind her one bit if she came to 'visit' me in the barracks."

"Enough!" Regina barked suddenly, making the guards halt their oh so inappropriate banter. Men, she snorted derisively and rolled her eyes, always thinking below the waist.

Taking a few quiet steps forward as if the girl might hear her and startle like a nervous deer, the queen folded her hands in front of her black gown and peered intently at the beauty on the other side of the glass. The image of the girl only lasted a few moments more before she hastily put the magical shroud back over top that blocked Regina's scrying magic.

Just what was a woman doing in Rumpelstiltskin's castle? As far as Regina knew he'd never shown much interest in the other species, besides hammering out deals and stealing infants. Tapping a well manicured finger against her chin, the queen pondered the presence of the odd woman. Was she a prisoner or come willingly? What had she done to wind up in Rumpelstiltskin's castle, dusting and doing other house hold chores for him?

A slow but malice filled smile weaseled unto Regina's face as she examined the new friend or foe in the Dark One's grasp. She had no knowledge who this woman that stood in his castle now was, but with her most powerful magic and a good but of luck she could possibly find out.

Thoroughly satisfied, with a potential new opening to reveal a flaw in the devious Dark One, Regina could not help but utter a grating cackle. Turning to face the once gawking sentries she flicked her hand dismissingly at them and in seconds had transformed them into tiny cockroaches.

She smiled broadly as they scurried about the stone floor in panic trying very hard to run away as Regina drew near; casually stalking them as a cat might do a new ball of yarn.

"You whistle for a little nobody in a mirror?" She hissed cruelly down at the insects. "This will show you who is the fairest of them all." With out another word she vilely squished them under her shoes one by one; each making a horrid crunch as she did so.

~8~8~

Cold sheets of heavy driving rain battered vainly against the enchanted stones of the Dark Castle. Occasionally a stroke of lightening would thrash against the sky making the windows of the castle alight the citadel with luminescence. Thunder rumbled and roared in its churning ways, almost making the ancient yet sturdy castle shake.

Inside the manor, the one soul who remained paid little heed to the treacherous weather swirling about the realm.

What in the world was so special about that full length mirror, Belle pondered as she sat reading in the high backed chair of the main hall. The book about two brothers going to war was open, but she was barely reading it as she stared into the glowing fireplace.

Any other time she would have holed up in the library to read, but to be honest with herself she was feeling rather lonely and the plush leather almost smelled like the magical fiend; warming her in a way. Truth be told, she missed him a great deal when he was gallivanting out in the world making deals and changing fates.

She was always so happy when he came back, and liked to think that some part of him, that he hid, missed her as well. But no, that was probably her over active imagination. Why could he possibly be happy to see a slave; another trinket gotten in a deal? If anything he might only be mildly pleased to see that she hadn't tried to run away.

As it stood, Rum was gone to do business and wouldn't be back for a couple of days leaving her by her lonesome. And ever since the first time he had departed he had strictly forbidden her to tamper with the mirror.

She had tried to ask what was so important about it a number of occasions, but he'd only shake his head admonishingly at her and say it wasn't for her to know.

She assumed it must have some magical property, but hadn't a clue what it could be. Then today she'd accidentally had an end of the quilt that covered it hook around her foot making the fabric come sliding off it as she nearly tripped.

Admittedly she had stared into it for a moment or two, hoping to catch some glimpse of magic, but it looked like another ordinary mirror. The polished oak on the side was carved with swirls that rose up to the top and were molded like satyr horns. The bottom of the full length mirror looked like it was carved into claws that were curled around black orbs.

Despite its odd look their seemed nothing remotely special concerning it which she couldn't tell had disappointed or relived her.

A thunderous dull thud suddenly echoed around the keep mildly starling Belle away from her contemplations of the old mirror. It stopped for a moment then sounded again, letting the beauty know some one was banging at the huge double doors with its thick iron knocker.

A visitor? Rumpel had had a rare few visitors since she'd arrived and every time had ordered her off to her room when another was present. She almost felt as if he were stowing her away like a dirty secret.

Yawning widely she stood up nervously wondering if she should answer or decided to fake no one was home and hoped they leave. But then again Rumpel never forbade her to answer the door, and if someone trekked all night in the middle of a rain storm to seek of the infamous Rumpelstiltskin, it must be in either desperation or the utmost importance.

Deciding to chance it, mostly due to her insatiable curiosity, Belle placed her book down gently, and then snuck upon cat's feet to the entrance. Only a few guttering torches lit her path, but now so adept at working about the castle, she was confident she could navigate the cold lonely halls blindfolded.

Reaching the doors, she peered through a secret guards spy hole to look upon the one who came knocking. Belle was more than a little shocked to see a bent over elderly woman banging with what looked like the last of her strength.

She looked older than time itself, her body cracked and hunched with the weight of a hard life; even more so added with her soaked clothes that were sopped with rain. She was wearing a ragged black cloak that fluttered in the chill winds sent down the mountains and mingled with the blackness of night. A few wisps of hoary hair that fell from her cloaks hood were a startling white that seemed to make the moon pale in comparison to its unblemished brilliance.

She looked to be shivering with the cold that seemed to blow through her ragged body and Belle instantly felt a pity for the old woman.

"Can I help you?" Belle asked finally in a split decision to make herself known.

The old woman stopped banging, her breathing labored as she peered into the blackness; her rain blurred eyes squinting almost as if they were closed. "I-I don't mean to be a bother, but I've been walking for a long time and I'm afraid I've lost my way. I could use a few moments to rest by a fire if I may." She croaked; her voice scratchy and sharp like a rusted hinge on a garden gate.

Belle knew she shouldn't, but her heart was moved for the elderly soul, begging for shelter. Besides, Rum wouldn't be home for another two days and she could always call his name in an emergency if it was some sort of trap, and the castle was well equipped with its own defenses to boot.

"A moment." Belle stated then shut the peep hole deciding to allow the elder entry.

Oh far too easy! Regina grinned wickedly from behind her magical guise. What looked like a haggard old woman was actually a queen clad head to toe with every bit of magical enchantment, dust, spell, and potion she possessed to slip under Rumpel's magical radar.

It had cost her a lot of planning, some people to pay off to avert the fiend's attention half way across the world, and her most powerful spells in her arsenal for this one shot to infiltrate. But so far it seemed to be going as planned.

With in a few moments a side servant door was creaked open, and the girl who had been standing in the mirror, oblivious to the eyes that spied her was beckoning her inside the home of the famed Dark One.

"Thank you kindly, milady." Regina chocked as she waddled inside at a rickety gait. "I promise I won't stay long, just a tiny spell to warm these old bones."

Belle smiled warmly at the elderly lady. "Nonsense. I'll get you a place by the fire in the kitchen and give you something to eat." She assured the lady. "I'm Belle by the way."

"Thank you, Belle. But oh I don't want to be to much a nuisance." The witch echoed again, seemingly every inch the meekest old woman who truly believed she was intruding.

As they walked into the kitchen, Belle sat the 'old woman' by the fire and began taking out leftovers from her meal at supper.

From behind, Regina watched her curiously, taking every detail into account and storing it into her tactile brain. The woman walked about freely, and seemed much to at ease to be termed a captive. She could detect no magic or curse layered upon her body, and no fear concerning the Dark One.

"If I may ask, who is the lord or lady of this manor?" Regina inquired in a winded gasp.

Belle paused a moment, as if fighting a battle inside herself on how much to reveal. Then again, who didn't know of the Dark One? "Rumpelstiltskin. This is the Dark Castle." She replied strongly as if that wasn't enough to make people go fleeing in stark terror.

"Oh." The ancient woman breathed in surprise at the name. Her wrinkled features seemed to shudder once as if in fear. "Will he be angry that I'm here?"

Belle shook her head fiercely, trying to assuage the woman's fears. "No, no, he's currently distracted in another matter so I don't believe he even knows anyone else but me is here."

That was interesting, he trusted her to traipse about his enchanted castle freely without any sort of bonds or shackles while he was indisposed. Regina made a mental note of that fact as the girl she now knew was Belle, pushed a plate her way.

She dove in as if she'd been starving, all the while trying to sound like a simply curious, but amiable old shrew. "I did not know the Dark One had a wife." Regina stated trying to prod and poke what Belle was out into the open. She had to figure out just what was the relationship that stood between the chestnut haired woman and the devious Rumpel.

Bell blushed fiercely, so that it almost felt as if her cheeks were ablaze at the woman's innocent question. She shook her head sagely. "No, I'm not his wife."

"A daughter?" The old one inquired, but her aged tone had a hint of dubiousness in it.

"No."

"A vassal?"

"Sort of…"

Oh. Regina knew instantly the established link between maid and monster. The fool had somehow managed to get herself sold or had sold herself to Rumpelstiltskin in a bargain. She could have cackled in the stupid woman's face at her fate of drudgery and servitude, but tactfully kept her old lady composure. Instead, she let a tiny gasp of saddened shock pass her lips.

Laying a seemingly gnarled and crooked work worn hand over Belle's own she tried to look and sound her most sympathetic. "A pity a lovely young lass like you should be a slave. I can't imagine what it must be liked to be owned by a creature such as him. How horrible a fate to be dealt into this lot of life."

Belle only shrugged mildly in reply. That fact barely even bothered her anymore. She had come to see it more like permanent employment to a man who treated her mostly as an equal rather than his claim of ownership over her.

"I apologize for asking. I see your wariness to speak on the matter." Regina nodded soberly as if mistaking the silence for fear and sadness. "I do not blame you. He must be a harsh taskmaster to abide by."

Belle found herself bristling slightly, wanting to defend Rum. "Actually no, he is by no means the cruel being people take him for." The beauty sighed almost wistfully into space. She still remembered striding into the once huge deserted room, now a library and seeing the menagerie of books of all kinds and colors lining the shelves, fondly. "He can be sweet and kind and considerate..."

Behind his dark slate eyes and gray-gold flesh that glimmered in light, she could see a warmth that lurked under the surface wanting to come out. But something, something vile and dark that festered inside kept it fettered away.

The witch forced herself not to grin in victory. That was it, Regina knew, telling her everything. Whoever could truly term Rumpelstiltskin, the famed Dark One, as any of those things was either demented or there was something truly there that the rest of the word did not see.

"Taken a fancy to your master have you, girl?" She asked slyly; her tone amused in an old, match-maker fashion.

Belle's eyes widened at the words, her blood pumping insanely fast as her cheeks alit with another rosy blush. "No! I mean…why would…maybe…I don't know." She admitted rather exhaustedly as if she had been long debating the thought.

Who knew, perhaps she had. It sure wasn't fear of him that made her heart flutter when he spoke to her.

Although a part of her was screaming to be wary of this woman she'd only just met, Belle hadn't seen another person besides Rumpel in over six moon turns and this woman was so nice and inviting. Besides, she'd probably never see the old woman again or anyone else for that matter so what was the harm.

There was of course a chance Rum would find out, but she wasn't afraid of his temper and would simply take what came from such an instance if he did discover she had let some one into the Dark Castle.

"It's not unheard of." Regina filled in tactfully to allow some of the embarrassment to fade away from Belle's features. "A kind master can make you feel like you're in love when it's all one has, and your very life hinges upon that kindness. The question is however, do you like him simply because he treats you well, or do you like him because of who he is all around, both good and the no doubt bad side of him?"

Belle remained silent as she pondered the elder female's words. There was truth and wisdom to them, but she couldn't help but feel the old one was trying to pry. Not wishing to revel anymore of her…whatever she felt for Rumpelstiltskin, she brilliantly changed the subject until the ancient soul was ready to depart.

By the time she was ready to leave, the night was still and the gushing rains had moved on to wash other parts of the land. The moon was vaguely peeking out behind a veil of gray clouds, making the droplets of water shimmer upon the grasses like jewels that sprung up from the earth.

"Once again I thank you for your kindness, but try not to mention that I was here. I wouldn't want you beaten for allowing a haggard old woman into your master's castle without his permission." Regina wheezed in the masked elderly woman's tone. Her gnarled fingers uncurled like vicious eagle's talons as she placed her hand over Belle's.

The beauty suppressed an odd and unpleasant shiver at the touch that seemed stone cold even after being by a fire for an hour. Still, she smiled warmly at the crone as she opened the side door to leave from the castle.

"For your kindness I will tell you one thing." The lady in disguise continued. Limping out the door she turned back to face Belle; her oddly young looking eyes holding flecks of sickly green. "There is a tale that is known to us elders about a way to defeat the Dark One. If you should realize that you do not care for him I know of an ancient legend that tells tale of an enchanted dagger gilded of silver and onyx. It is said that whoever controls the blade also controls the Dark One. It is probably an old tall tale, but there's no harm in knowing." She smiled slyly. "Besides, wouldn't it be nice to be master instead of slave? To have all you desire at a blades tip?"

Belle didn't know why, but the words burrowed into her, like the old woman had just driven her hand through her gut; disturbing her deeply. Who was this woman who knew such information about mythic daggers and such?

Trying to force a smile, the beauty only managed a half unsure smirk as she closed the door and made sure to lock it tight. A way to control Rumpelstiltskin? No, Belle shook her head determinedly as she strode to her room. Even if was possible she would never do that to him.

Regina allowed herself a clever cackle as she walked the narrow mountain path away from the Dark Castle. So Rumpel's little slave girl had taken a shine to him; thinking she liked, perhaps even loved him. Oh what glorious havoc that could wreck upon the arrogant Dark One!

She had only related the story of the dagger as a fall back plan; just incase the love blossoming in Belle withered and died as love was sometimes wont to do. It was always good to have a back up plan or perhaps ally if things went awry; especially when it concerned anything dealing with Rumpelstiltskin.

If Rumpel spurned or hurt the girl, then Regina could see a very possible spy in the manor of the Dark One reporting all his coming and goings to her.

~8~8~

_A/N: So yes, this was very Regina heavy, but we'll be back to more Rum/Belle next chapter!_


	8. Emotions

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! So much writers block for this chapter :/_

**~8~8~**

Home. Rumpelstilstkin allowed a small thin grin to escape his lips as he neared the clearing tree line and the top of the Dark Castle's roof came into view. The lofty pennants that fluttered in the mountain breezes on the very tip of the tower spires were emblazoned with his special hue of mulled gold as the main color along with the image of a vibrant teal dragon that bared and brandished its claws and razor sharp fangs threateningly.

The magical monster stopped a moment on the very fringe of the dark forestry that edged the lines of his massive estate. The wild woods could, and should, have overrun his boundaries, but the ominous glade seemed kept at bay by the even darker and sinister forces that enchanted his land.

Leaning against a monolithic ancient oak with his arms crossed, he let another broad yet fond smile come to his face. He had never truly stopped to appreciate the view of the grand palace in which he dwelled, but now he was letting his eyes soak up the image greedily. His midnight black eyes absorbed the picturesque view of the gray stone castle standing tall and proud like some overlord or sleeping monster that presided over the land; tucked away in the recesses of the jagged mountain peaks.

A few short wonderful months ago it had only been that- a castle, nothing more and nothing less. A cold charcoal gray shell that only served to keep intruders away from his precious trinkets and have a luxurious place to plot his schemes against the outside world, that loathed him, in the best comfort magic could conjure.

Now however, the once seemingly cold, wicked castle pulsed with something different…something special that had never been there before. It felt fresh and vibrant like the first days of spring after a frigid, gray winter that had only brought death and despair.

Belle, he knew immediately. Belle brought it a warmth and life that thrummed pleasantly about the entire manor and spilled to the outside in the overflow of such beauty that had come to dwell within. It was she who transformed the once grotesque into the gorgeous. She made it more than a rather large and stony hovel. It was she who made it a grand castle and a home.

And she was waiting for him. The thought of her expecting him sent a pleasant tingle skimming down the Dark One's spine and forced an impish giggle to tear from his throat. Most people were more than happy to see him depart from their presence, but Belle always smiled when he slid into a room even if he was in a less than courteous mood.

Before he had gotten to know her, Rumpel expected her to act much different when he left. He had assumed she would be practically doing cartwheels that the beast was gone for a few days. Yet, incredibly, he always sensed a far away sadness behind her deep azure eyes that she couldn't quite fight back behind a smile, and gnawing little worry that flashed in her hypnotic orbs when he revealed he'd be gone longer than normal.

Did she worry about him when he left? Did she bite her bottom lip slightly in anxiousness; twist her hands together as she watched him trek out into the realms? Rumpel snorted in amusement at the novel thought that sprung unbidden to his mine. That was a first; some one saddened to see him go. What next, people were happy to have a plague outbreak?

But just the same he was glad he was home to banish away the melancholy that he saw swimming in her eyes and bask in her warm smiles once more.

To be honest her smiles were usually the highlight of his day, and he missed them terribly when he was out and about. To know that those soft endearing grins were directed at him and not in mocking or scorn or fear always gave his heart a pleasant tug. They were genuine and that's what made them so precious to him.

Sometimes he'd even do little things for her just to coax a smile out; a laborious chore would find itself done without her lifting a finger, a special fragrance he cooked up in his apothecary, although her favorite was the wild honeysuckle, perhaps even a quip he'd worked half a day thinking up just to bring that wonderful pleasant upturn of her lips to her lovely face.

Those who feared him would probably laugh or stare in shock if they realized just how much he, the most powerful creature in all the realms, the aptly named 'Dark One' longed for the smile of a slave; how hard he worked to obtain one like a prize he coveted more than all his trinkets combined.

Chuckling slightly, the fiend realized he'd been standing and staring at the ominous yet lovely looking castle for longer than he had intended. Setting out from the fringe of haunted shade he trekked at a slightly fast pace towards the Dark Castle. He had promised Belle he'd be back before noon, and Rumpelstiltskin was always a man of his word.

~8~8~

"I hope you haven't been running amok in the castle while I've been gone, Dearie." Rumpel stated mischievously as he snuck up behind the beauty.

Belle let out a startled gasp of surprise to hear his odd voice and giggle, she'd come to find endearing, emanate from behind her. She was engrossed in her tedious labor of beating out the dust laden carpets that she'd been capable of rolling out to the estate grounds.

Now she stood in the back of the large castle where wood for the fires were kept, and other castle needs and implements were close on hand. She wielded a sturdy broom in one hand whacking at the carpets with a gusto that sent tiny shoots of gray dust into the sky and carried on the lofty winds.

Belle dropped the broom and spun around instantly, a wide smile marbled upon her soft features as her bright orbs flashed happily at his voice. "Well, well, the masters finally returned! I suppose I can stop talking to the clocks and the candlesticks to keep me company now that you're back; pity." She chuckled good naturedly.

" And here I thought you had missed me! But you think it better to converse with inanimate objects more than I." He carried on the jest in mock indignity. "Surely I am not that boring."

"Boring, Rumpel?" Belle arched an incredulous brow and held back a laugh. "That is something you are most defiantly not." She paused for a moment, cocking her head slightly to the side; her voice softening. "But I am glad you're back."

The pair stood there staring at one another for a moment with no words spoken between them. It was a rare time where they allowed what little…whatever they had come to the surface in silent requiem; neither acknowledging it nor denying it. It was simply there, yet neither dare outstretch their hand to reach it and break through the tremulous barrier that seemed to grow weaker every day.

It was Belle who first broke the tantalizing spell of their silent gazes; realizing she must look like a complete idiot for staring so long at her master. She only prayed that her eyes did not betray what lurked in her heart.

"I should finish up here." She stated awkwardly as she averted her gaze from his own nervously. "You can tell me about your grand adventures and deal doings at supper."

He only nodded once as he swallowed difficultly, not having any courage to say a few words to her as she had done. Turning back to the castle, the fiend grabbed the latch that led to the kitchen and instantly knew something was wrong.

As his hand came down upon the knob the magic that had been endowed upon the castle ages ago pulsed warningly though his palm and then his entire frame; rattling him in its alarming enchantment.

Sensations flared through his mind that sounded like harsh whispers carried on the wind. It was as if the castle where speaking in hushed tones in his mind letting him know that something odd had occurred.

Someone other than Belle had been inside. Instantly he sent his magic out trying to find some attack upon his palace, or weed out a spell put in place to spy upon him. His mind instantly went to those who would see him harm or gain anything from snooping into his castle. It was a long list to say the least.

To his relief, nothing felt askew or tampered with in the magical and physical realm, but still that did not halt the fact that someone had either stole into the Dark Castle, which was nigh impossible, or his little servant had allowed them entry. Frowning deeply he knew Belle well enough to know which speculation was correct.

Rumpel's head turned back slightly to see Belle from the corner of his onyx eyes. She was about to whack another filthy rug when he paused her with his matter of fact words.

"You let some one into the castle?" He breathed accusingly as the last of the warning magic faded into the occasional tingling sensation on his hand. It was a question, but it sounded far more like a fact he had known for ages and was simply being stated.

Belle paused in mid swing, frozen almost at his words. How could he have known? He revealed nothing of this knowledge a moment ago. Well, the castle was enchanted, she knew, surely it must possess some form of security measures that he had never informed her of.

There was no use in denying or attempting to lie about the matter; not that she would have anyway. Though even if she had she knew a lie would be futile to one such as he.

With a deep sigh she nodded once then turned to face him, bracing for the coming storm. "Yes."

"Were you going to tell me?" He growled, and Belle could practically feel the embers of his tempered rage flare up like the first flecks of a fire in a dry forest.

"Yes. I was waiting for the right time to bring it up to try and avoid the worst of this." She waved her hand in his direction.

He pointed a wiry finger to himself, his eyes glinting fury. "This?" She was referring to his temper he knew, but only offered an irked snort. "Do you even know who it was you let in? What happened?"

A small frown tipped downwards at the edges of her full lips as she realized the once calm and happy moments of their little banter had come to a dark end. "A few nights ago an elderly woman came to the door seeking shelter. I let her in, gave her a meal, let her rest by the fire and sent her on her way." Belle admitted plainly. There was no use having in come out in tiny bits of frightened snippets. It had to come out quick like an arrow shaft that pierced flesh before it made them bleed out. Belle knew it wasn't going to be pretty, but it had to be done.

"You did what!" Rumpel yelled in astonishment as if he had mistaken what had just left her lips. Surely it had to be some kind of jest or trick. Surely she couldn't have opened the doors to his illustrious palace to some rickety vagabond! But he knew it was true, it was just like Belle to do something so idiotic, so kind, so…Belle.

Didn't she know he had enemies who would very literally jump at the chance to slither into his domain; to hole up and fester like starving rats!

Scorching anger began to rile up within him now, like a fire that was quickly gaining strength and heat every passing second. His previous thoughts of wanting and longing for her smile, and to be back home fell away like ash as they were burned in his ever rising fury. "You let someone into my castle!"

"You never said I couldn't." Belle rebuffed calmly; staring into the eyes of the Dark One unafraid, and with a bit of anger of her own.

"Never said you couldn't?" He echoed plainly in a sharp hiss. "That's your pathetic defense; because I never said you couldn't?" Chuckling mirthlessly he moved like the wind and grabbed her roughly by the arm to drag her inside the Dark Castle.

Once pass the threshold he shoved her inside angrily and slammed the servant's entrance door with a twitch of the wrist.

In his eyes Belle could see his inferno temper flaring like a blacksmiths forge, with glints of white hot rage that sparked in flecks about his onyx orbs. He sneered at her furiously, as he stepped towards her ominously.

Belle stood her ground in the face of his wrath not even back up a step as he neared. He couldn't very well blame her for something he truly never said she could not do. If it was so important he would have mentioned it before hand!

"Since you're so keen in stating things that I never said you could or couldn't do lets try to make a few more specific, Dearie." He spat angrily through a clenched jaw. "You will never, and I mean _never _be permitted to see or speak to another person again save me. You will never open a door to anyone again, and you will never leave the inside of this castle without my supervision!" He was standing eye to eye with her now; midnight staring into sky blue. "Are. We. Understood?"

Belle's eyes never strayed from his, although he could tell pain wrenched across her face that she masked with a neutral air. "Yes." She replied quietly; simply taking the wrath she knew would come upon her head. But she didn't regret what she had done; she aided some one who needed it.

Tactfully however, she had omitted the part about the dagger not wanting to spur his anger to further heights. She was not afraid of his temper now having, grown accustomed to his rare rages, but neither was she stupid. To speak of some old, probably untrue wives tale now might get her permanant residence into the fetid cell he had first thrown her in.

"I still have rugs outside; will you ban me from collecting those?" She asked, almost in a challenge.

"Forget about the rugs." He growled angrily. Gesturing about him quickly he refused to let his anger die. "Clean the stairs or something when I depart. I said what I mean, Belle, I will make certain you never leave the inside of this castle again without my eye on you."

Her eyebrow arched slightly at his words so furiously spoken. "Depart again?" She echoed unsurely, as if in her gut knowing what he was about to speak.

"Don't think for a second a life time without seeing another was the end of it. Banning you to a life of complete solitary from the outside world isn't enough for this enormous blunder. Thanks to you I must now go out again and search for this old crone to make sure she isn't a threat." He ground out, wanting in some way to shake her steady composure. The revelation of a life without seeing another hadn't done it, but he knew this would hit her where it hurt.

It worked he knew, by the alarm that cracked against her brave face. He knew what hurt the most to her: being responsible for other people's pain and suffering. That's why she had come with him; was it not?

Her brow furrowed worriedly, the flash in her cobalt eyes betraying her emotions. "Don't please, it was just an old woman who'd lost her way!"

Belle couldn't imagine what he might do if he caught up with the elderly lady. Conjure her into something akin to a beetle or frog in his anger, kill her, or even torture her? All for Belle's actions.

"Not just her, Belle. Because of your lofty anthropologic actions I'll have to teach the whole village below a lesson just in case that old hag ran her mouth off about being in my castle. Can't have people thinking I'm a gracious beast by any means." He hissed vengefully.

Belle felt her heart lurch at his words. She seemed like nearly pleading to him to have mercy on them for her actions, but she knew he'd not listen; not when he was in such a mood. "Please…don't." She broke in hoarsely, swallowing hard. He couldn't do this to people who already had so little in their hard cruel lives.

The magical fiend should have felt a little satisfied at her nearly pleading, but found it left a bitterness boiling inside him that he hated. Even in his anger he didn't like seeing her fighting back tears, seeing her disturbed and anxious.

He suddenly wanted to take it all back and simply forgive the blunder, but pride and the walls of scathing anger stood in the way.

Instead he only snorted dismissingly as if he was immune to her worry and hurried down to the castle doors.

~8~8~

Belle set up pacing after the incident transpired and he had left in a rage. The beauty fought the urge to twist her hands as she wondered what fate would befall the poor peasantry. She should have attempted to do anything other than pace, but the thought of suffering persons below in the quaint little village that lived in sheer cold fear of the man who reside in his mountain palace, banished any other thought.

She could almost imagine the screams of those who fled from him floating on the wind or the watery terrified eyes of the old woman she had offered warmth and shelter looking forever aghast as the devious master brought down his magic upon them.

After an hour had past of her worried pacing she felt as if she would explode with nervous dread that churned inside. She needed to do something to try and take her mind off the no doubt tragic disturbances of the small shire. Well, he had ordered her to scrub the steps, in his fervent rage.

With a heavy mournful sigh the beauty fetched a bucket, and filled it with cold water from the pump in the kitchen. She carried her burden to the winding stone steps that led ominously to the east wing and began to scrub the coarse stone stairway that led up to the that section of the castle.

The cold stony stairs were a hard task to clean, but it would work off her nerves and felt almost like a penance in a way. It felt like some way, the only way, to apologize for what her actions had wrought upon the bedraggled villagers.

As the cold water sloshed about the gray stone steps, and the rag began to clear the grit and dirt away, Belle murmured quite prayers under her breath that Rumpel wouldn't be to harsh.

~8~8~

Rumpel came back to the Dark Castle late. The setting of the sun cast a fiery orange glow about the land showering everything with the last warmth of day as the firmament was cascaded in the tranquil hues of coming night.

This time however, the beauty of his keep was lost upon the fiend as he slipped back into his castle. Earlier, while his rage still churned hot, he had indeed journey to the small village that resided past the darkened woods.

As usual whenever he decided to make a trek through the out-of-the-way shire. The townsmen stared at him with hate mingled with sheer fear that danced upon their haggard features. Rumpel liked it like that; it made him feel strong and respected. Some even bowed to him thinking that might spare his devious gaze from sweeping over them, while some ran away and herded their little ones to safety inside their thatch and mud hovels.

One simply did not let children wander while the big bad beast was on the prowl of course.

Yet unlike what he related he would do to them to Belle, he wasn't to there to conjure havoc and strife in the form of ravenous demons or devour their babies, but merely summoned the town leader who was barely more well to do than the other scuffling peasants and questioned him on the whereabouts of the old woman.

He was actually surprised to hear that indeed an elderly ragged woman in tatters had passed through the town. The fiend was or had been absolutely positive whoever had invaded his home possessed some sort of magic. Regina perhaps, but he hadn't felt her magic. Moreover he was astounded that the crone had died a few hours earlier due to her rather strenuous travels and a snake bite.

As the nervous, sweating, bumbling magistrate related it to the Dark One, the old crone had simply collapsed after coming into town; a snake bite on her ankle and her ragged form already looking like it was going to collapse.

Seeing that there had been no magic or deception to be had in the stuttering leader's words, Rumpel had simply departed after doing an entire sweep for any tricks of the magical persuasion and gratefully left the village in peace.

That had left him feeling rather at a loss. With no one to rightfully take his anger out on, he had simply roamed the dark glades lost in the morose of his thoughts. As his anger cooled under the shaded land, so did his common sense come back.

In a way Belle had been right. He had never told her not to answer the door, simply because he never assumed anyone he did not expect would ever dare tread his lands. She had only done what she thought best, and admittedly, though never to her, he had over reacted.

But why? It was the thought of having his emotions run amok that bothered him the most as he trekked through the darkened wilds. Why did he over react all the time with her when he could control any emotion and feeling towards anyone else behind a sinister mask of a thin smile and evilly gleaming eyes?

Why did she summon all these feelings inside him that he couldn't control? First it was happiness and then had transformed to open anger, and now…regret. Regret of the pain he caused with his calloused words, knowing what would affect Belle the most. Regret of weeding up guilt inside her to choke at her conscious, and looking at her so callously as pain brimmed upon her features.

After a few hours of silent reprieve traversing through the haunted woods, he had decided to go back home and…apologize for exploding at her.

Rumpel sat staring at her from the darkness as he was sometimes wont to do as to not make her feel uncomfortable. It was so much easier to stare at some one when they didn't know you were there. Albeit rather creepy, but he was Rumpelstiltskin and creepy naturally came with the territory of being dubbed the Dark One. In truth he wasn't so much as staring at trying to work up the courage to apologize to her.

'I'm sorry'; two words that were by no means easy to speak, especially for one such as he. To openly admit a fallacy wasn't his usual style, but then again Belle was far more than a usual woman.

He stared at her critically from the shaded darkness trying to judge her feelings. Would she even except an apology, would she brush him off for being so cruel this afternoon? There were so many things she had a right to be upset over.

A sudden sharp hiss of pain disturbed the magical monster from his thoughts as the noise emanated throughout the lonely chill corridor. Belle stopped scrubbing the steps and clutched her left hand by the wrist. Even in the darkness where he lingered like a reminiscent specter he could see the bright crimson that glimmered with the light from the flickering torches.

His once critical narrowed gaze softened immediately at her pain. Before he knew it he had stepped from the darkness seemingly to just appear in a wisp of faint torch smoke, and knelt beside her.

Plenty of times of having him just materialize out of the blue made Belle quickly lose her sense of being startled at his instantaneous appearance, but she still couldn't help but shudder faintly at the sudden presence of the magical man she felt by her side.

Both her palms were cut and bleeding, the bright ruby color of her life's blood standing out in the pale hue of her hand, telling the tales of long hours hard at toil scrubbing the rough worn stones of the castle steps.

Rumpel felt his heart constrict in a vice as he recalled his carelessly spoken words from earlier. He had dismissingly ordered her to scrub the stairs, not even thinking of what that could entail; only wanting something strenuous and back breaking for her to do as his wrath had blinded him.

Cursing himself inwardly, he should have known the stone was far to rough and jagged for her to scrub. Yet, she had done it anyway, and by the drenched brown stains of dirty water on her dress and the obvious scars and scrapes festooning her hands she had stuck with it.

They must have hurt abominably, but never did she utter a single gasp of complaint save the slight hiss in pain for as long as he had quietly watched her labor. The beast trailed a clever finger gently along her hand feeling the texture of roughness; such as his had once been hard at work at the wheel, chaffed a rubbed raw unto bleeding to manage a few coins to make ends meat.

Her hands looked as if they had already bled once from scrubbing the rough stones that went towards the east wing. A sickening feeling festered in his gut as he imagined her blood flecking the gray rock like tiny ruby stars.

"You're bleeding." He stated obviously, almost accusatory as if she had been hiding some important secret.

Belle tried to pull her hand out of his grip, but the gesture was more than futile; his magical endowed strength far to powerful for her bone weary body. "They're just a few calluses. Why do you care?"

"It doesn't matter; let me heal it." He spat brining the magic to his finger tips. He felt the icy coldness of the power, and the sickening sensation of cobwebs smoothing across his gray-gold flesh that he was certain he'd never get used to. A faint touch of purple bloomed at his finger tips but Belle batted his hand away.

She shook her head trying to weasel out of his grip. "No."

Stubborn woman, Rumpel thought angrily at her gesture of rejection to the magic. It reminded him of another who rejected healing, but no…he refused to remember those times.

Her last word made a muscles jerk in his jaw and he pressed hard upon the tender bleeding flesh, making her cry out it pain. He didn't know what anger possessed him to do such, but he was immediately sorry as she cringed, pulling for her hand to be released from his talon like clutches.

"I don't like my property damaged." He hissed as he leaned towards her, but did not cast any magic on her. "Why don't you want me to heal you?"

Again she attempted to pull her hand away, and this time he let her wrist slip through without protest. "I am not your property." She snapped back. "You may own me, Rumpelstilstkin, but I most certainly do not fall under the category of property." Nursing her injured hand she tried not to growl in pain. " And to answer your question, sometimes going through something makes us stronger. Next time I do this my palms wont bleed. They will be fine without magic, thank you."

"You wont be doing this again." He stated with a determined snort as his head swiveled to the clean stones. "I don't want you hurt."

But he hurt her, the magical fiend realized suddenly. He hurt her all the time with his callous words when a black mood shrouded him or his careless tongue told her to do something without considering the repercussion. He hurt her and he hated himself for it.

"I'm sorry." Rumpel blurted out suddenly before he even really knew he had said it.

Belle's head shot up to look in his eyes, her own mirroring confusion and surprise at his words. She never truly expected those same two words to come out in the same sentence especially directed at her.

For the second time that day, maid and master stood silent for a time as if absorbing the words that still seemed to linger on the drafty air of the citadel.

The devious beast smiled slightly at her, wondering how in the world could all these emotions be raging inside of him at once like an over boiling witches cauldron. "If you will not except my magic I know of a politce that will soothe the sting and the burn of your palms."

Her eyes brightened, and the well known, lovely smile crept back into its rightful place soothing the torment that stormed throughout him temporarily. "Really? That would be wonderful."

"Come with me then." He ordered mildly as he walked in front of her. Quite suddenly she sidled up beside him as if thinking to hook her arm around in his own, or he to do vice versa. A breathless moment suspended between them as if they both had the same thought of what might occur if they let it. It was in reach; there…whatever they had, but the nerve failed them both a split second later and they only walked silently side by side.


	9. Song and Dance

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Warning, fluffy chapter!_

**~8~8~**

_So this is what she does when I'm away_, Rumpel thought in fond amusement as he watched Belle leisurely at work below. The magical monster stood upon the dim upper tier of the Dark Castle in an un-moving, silent repose. His black needle like talons were curled over the mahogany railing, his back slightly hunched like a stone gargoyles as he peered down at the laboring beauty. He was almost akin to an invisible specter; watching his slave take studious care of his trinkets.

After nearly living three fourths of the year in the Dark Castle of Rumpelstiltskin, not much save the occasional brisk dusting and daily kitchen duties were normally done. Her tasks were more or less so light and none strenuous that it left her plenty of time to read or explore the enchanted palace at her leisure.

Currently she was finishing up the last of the dusting in the main hall; taking special caution over cleaning the more fragile and favored trinkets of the master. Moreover, to Rumpel's great surprise and pleasure, he caught her in throes of singing as she toiled.

Her tune was light hearted and merry and drifted gaily upon the crisp nearly Autumn air. She trilled along pleasantly as if she wasn't the slave of a monster, but a free woman going about her business happily without one care in all the realms.

Her duster swayed studiously in tempo with her words, sending the sparse or none existent particles of dust on his odd collection floating through the air to play in the warm sun rays that beamed through the towering windows. They too seemed to waltz in a rhythm with her tittering song until disappearing from the light and landing softly in the mulled shadows.

Trust Belle to make even work look beautiful; he fought to restrain a chuckle at the thought as he continued his silent observation of his lovely servant.

Normally on a day such as this he would have been down at his wheel, or in the apothecary, but his cat like curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he chose to remain unseen around his citadel to find out exactly what she did. Of course that had meant lying to her, which he hated, by saying he would be gone for a few hours. But now, looking at her as she sung carelessly to herself it was worth it in his estimation.

He had caught her in a state of complete and comfortable ease. What he saw in his onyx orbs was a glimpse of what free Belle looked like, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The fiend did not snoop on her because he didn't trust her of course. Oh no trusting Belle came as natural as breathing or conjuring. That's why he never checked his tea for poison or his meals for one drop of venom as he would have done against any other.

She was the only person he knew he could trust, and in truth he could wish for no better person to so openly present that trust it to.

Her song changed suddenly, he noticed, after the last lovely note of the previous drifted into nothingness. He leaned his spindly elbows on the wooden railing of the balcony, his eyes pinioned upon her, and ears straining intently to hear her sweet words eagerly.

"Girls in white dresses and blue satin sashes

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eye lashes

Silver white winters that melt into spring

These are a few of my favorite things."

As her musical voice drifted to the next verse, the magical fiends couldn't help but let a low chuckle purr out of his throat. He rested his chin in his hand and stared at her dreamily as a quiet, pleasant sigh escaped his lips. Such a strange treasure his Belle. Now where had she learned such a song as frivolous as 'favorite things'?

The little ditty was catchy to say the least and he found himself ever so softly humming the sing-song tune in tandem with her. Were those truly her favorite things or simply lines to the song he wondered as he cocked his head slightly to the left to have a better view of her from his high perch. If that was what she desired he could conjure it with a flick of the hand; one spell uttered from his mouth and it would be hers.

The magical monster could only grin wider at his servants antics as she flourished the black and white colored duster with vigor upon the last of the trinkets at the end of every line.

"When the dog bites

When the bee stings

When I'm feeling sad

I simply remember my favorite things

And then I don't feel so bad!"

Loud clapping disrupted the beauty's singing, right after the last word sailed out of her mouth. The duster fell from her startled hand as the raucous sound echoed around her. Belle's heart fluttered at the well known impish cackle that pierced through the clapping. Her cheeks began to alight with an embarrassed pink that made he face feel like it was on fire. It couldn't be…he couldn't have…he wasn't supposed to be back till three.

The clapping suddenly became languid and very close as a tingle of magic brushed through the air, telling Belle he had teleported down. She wished he hadn't; maybe if he had taken the stairs she could have run away from the humiliation of him hearing her singing.

"Bravo, Dearie." Rumpel commended his clapping slowing to a halt; a smirk etched across his thin lips.

Belle fiddled nervously with the wooden handle to the duster; trying to forcefully banish the blush away from her cheeks. "Rumpel, I thought you would still be gone."

"Business ended early." He lied with a careless shrug and a smirk. "So I thought I'd come home, and low and behold I was greeted with the sound of someone skinning a live cat." He sniggered in his usual fashion.

He was jesting, Belle knew, and that in some way assuaged her terror of being caught belting out old songs from home. The beauty lips curled sardonically as she stared down her nose at him mockingly and playfully batted him with the fluffy duster, sending a little puff a dust into the air. "I'll have you know I was taught by the best singer in my father's palace."

"They obviously needed to be fired." He chortled, and Belle couldn't help but lose the feigned indignity and smile fondly at him. She had grown to adore their little tit-for-tat with one another; a dance of witty remarks, and studious insights meant in fun. Rumpelstiltskin was extremely pleasant to be around when he wasn't snarling and snapping, and even when he was acting the beast she could still tolerate him.

Circling around her once, his hands folded behind his back, his onyx eyes peered at her intently as if discovering a new feature to a prize he hadn't known existed. "What other skills besides playing the bard do you have that I don't know about, hmm?"

"The ones all women of noble birth are taught." She stated as he circled back to face her. In her cobalt eyes, the magical fiend couldn't tell if Belle seemed irked or even a trifle angry against her own words. "I was taught singing, music, embroidery, fashion, dancing…" The beauty sighed once, a disgusted frown come to her face. "You know the mindless things all women of wealth are taught. Reading and actually desiring knowledge of history and war is clucked at and frowned upon so that the noble ladies can be the best dainty dim little wife they can be."

It seemed obvious she clearly had no taste for such things making Rumpel grin broadly. He had snagged a very odd woman hadn't he? She was one that didn't care for a provincial life even as a wealthy noble.

The fiend spent so much time hammering out deals with people who wanted all those things, and were willing to sell anything they had to obtain it that it was a breath of fresh air and endearing in its own way, that Belle wasn't like that in the least. Perhaps that's what made her so special?

"Dancing? I never thought you one to sweep around a room in a waltz. You can barely manage a laden tea tray!" He commented with a sharp laugh at her words.

Belle nodded, snorting irksomely. "Of course I know how to dance. All those balls and feasts and holidays required me to at least dance once, if not more. I'm actually quite good at it." She tacked on smugly.

The fiend grinned broadly, before offering Belle a flourished bow. He was suddenly eager to see if her claim were true, and couldn't stop himself before it was to late. "Well then lets see if your boast is true, shall we?"

Belle perched a brow incredulously at the magical man, but couldn't suppress a smile at his antics. If he could play this teasing game, then so could she. "You can dance, oh mighty Dark One?"

"I can do anything, Dearie." He winked at her roguishly in blatant challenge for her to prove her claim.

"Well anything you can do I can do better." Belle stated primly as she smiled lasciviously at her master.

The fearless beauty took a sturdy step forward, and suddenly they both felt rather awkward as what they had spoken dawned upon them both with startling clarity. It only then hit them what they had challenged against one another. To dance!

The Dark One forced himself not to gulp hard, fighting the urge to wipe the sticky sweat that was suddenly pricking the nape of his neck. To dance with her! What in the world had he been thinking to challenge something such as that even in jest! Was it that he had been so certain she would have declined?

The thoughts that suddenly swirled through his mind seemed almost to much as he stared at her. She looked as nervous as he at the moment, but her well known determination was stapled in her eyes. She was going to go through with this, he knew.

What had she just done? To except a challenge to dance with the most infamous man in all the realms! Other might akin it with dancing with the devil himself, but Belle never looked at Rum in such a manner. Still to know he would be holding her as they tramped around the main hall sent an array of Goosebumps to tingle against her skin.

"Well?" She asked softly; drawing him from his tempered thoughts that froze his body from moving.

He was the Dark One for heavens sakes; surely he should be able to do this one thing with ease; he thought to himself, and forcefully prodded his body into action. Slowly, his hands lifted into position; one upraised hand closed into hers, while his other (he prayed wasn't trembling) rested gently against her side. He made certain to be careful of his talons against her body, not wanting to scratch of scrape her lovely skin or pierce the soft azure fabric of her dress.

She rested her upraised, now healed, palm in his own while her other she placed against his shoulder. Her hand tremulously gripped the russet, richly embroidered tunic he wore to steady herself, and perhaps even assure herself that this was really happening.

They stood like that for a moment, as if they were frozen in time; their hearts the only things moving. Rum's thumbed traced faintly over her wrist, and he was certain that he could feel the speed of her heart racing that perfectly matched his own. Cautiously, he made the first smooth step to the left, and suddenly like summer sun on a layer or frost, the tension melted away to pool at their moving feet.

He led and she followed gracefully; left, left, right, back, twirl, in a slow meandering waltz. They fell into a smooth flow that gracefully swept them around the room as they maneuvered about the table and other little trinkets with the greatest of ease.

"Were those really your favorite things?" Rumpel asked rather awkwardly, unable to bear simply looking at her like a wide eyed moron with nothing to say.

Belle looked a trifle confused for a moment, her brow furrowed slightly, and then shook her head as she realized what he meant. "The song? No, no those are the words, but sometimes people put in their own. It's a game the little ones in the village used to play often. You know, what children like such as cream colored ponies and whiskers on kittens."

"I bet you won that game a lot as a child." He commented, as he spun her around for a second time.

He involuntarily pulled her a bit closer when they fringed a pedestal holding an ancient sword. She stepped smoothly into him at the same instance, closing what little distance that had first begun with.

So close, literally inches away, her warmth, her smiles, and laughter made the beast feel as if his heart might rip from his chest. The only time she had ever been this close was when he had saved her from taking a disastrous tumble off aladder. Only this time of being held in his arms she could back away if she desired; to keep him at arms length. But she didn't.

"It's quite simple." Belle continued, yet stammered a bit as he drew her nearer. She never knew being so close to some one could make her heart back- flip as it did now. "All you have to do is keep in time with the rhythm with your favorite things."

He smiled widely at her as the graceful waltz continued about the main hall. "Hmm, what are a few of my favorite things?" He knew rather well, he couldn't sing worth a lick of salt, but he managed to speak the words in an almost sing song manner.

"Deals with the desperate,

For their souls they'll sell

Stirring up strife, and fear, and…" He paused suddenly, realizing his extreme blunder that caused his throat to go dry. What words had been about to cross the threshold of his thin lips! The fiend choked them back like they had been about to escape; almost swallowing them down as if they were water in his mouth.

She looked at him softly passing no judgment in her cobalt orbs; any disgust or fear at his words. Belle never judged or reproved him; there was simply open ears and honesty.

That one look reassured him in a way that instantly made him not care about the words that he was about to speak.

"And talking with Belle." He continued finally; gently, and for a moment, just for the faintest instance he didn't think himself a monster. But no, he couldn't think like that, he couldn't let fancies and the lovely cerulean eyes of Belle make him disbelieve what was the truth.

A sardonic smirk festered across his lips replacing the spilt second tenderness of an ordinary man back with the magical monster.

"Tears that fall from the sad eyes of kings

These are a few of my favorite things."

Silenced reigned again for a few minutes, almost palpable between them until finally they slowed their dance until it ran off sputtering; the magic of the moment fading away like fog against the rays of day.

Unsure with what to do with his hands, Rumpel stowed them away behind his back as he managed a small bow. "Well what do you know, you do dance rather well."

"So do you, Rumpelstiltskin." Belle replied simply, almost breathlessly. Her hand shot to her heart as if the touch would make it's frenzied tempo slow.

In her eyes, he could tell, she hadn't forgotten his words; he could almost read them in her irises. Had he truly said that was one of his favorite things?

"But your rhyming could use a little work." She continued; laughing gaily, and Rumpel couldn't help but chuckle along.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: So obviously I don't own the song 'Favorite Things'. Also, not really plot in here but they deserve some fluff. _


	10. Jealousy

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

"You should take your cloak." Belle commented to the departing Dark One as she snuggled down in her usual spot by the monolithic windows of the main hall to read as well as watch the spectacular view of the seasons changing.

Summer was fast waxing into fall; there was a little, yet pleasant, nip in the crisp air that foretold of coming autumn. The trees were beginning to become spotted with their warm russet colors of mulled brown and crimson, and the flocks of birds were soaring to warmer far away shores. Soon the harshest of the fall chill would set in, but at present the weather was gorgeous and perfect.

Rumpel snorted once in incredulity as he dusted off his thick charcoal black vest. "I don't need a cloak. I'll be fine." He protested.

"You'll be home late and it's going to get colder." The beauty countered. Gracefully she slid off the window seat and grabbed the rough almost scaly cloak from its perch on his comfortable armchair. "Now what kind of servant would I be if I let my master catch a cold all because he thinks he doesn't need a cloak?"

"An annoyed one I would venture to guess." He replied with his impish smile as Belle whipped the fabric over his shoulders. The fiend could well imagine her shoveling bowls of soup his way and forcing him to stay in his Castle for an entire week to nurse him back to full health. But then again could he get sick? It'd never happened since he'd become the Dark One.

She hooked the golden clasp that was shaped as a crescent moon to his tunic in one smooth motion and brushed off a few of the wrinkles, smiling patiently at him. "You'll thank me later." The beauty assured him with a wry grin that set his heart fluttering.

"I thank you now." The Dark One stated with an exaggerated bow as he let the cloak flourish and swirl about his boots.

Belle couldn't help but laugh at his antics, as she grinned fondly at him. His eyes came up to meet hers as the sound of her soft laughter wafted through the room. They both paused, almost breathless as they realized how…comfortable they were around one another now. Sometimes they found themselves carrying on in the most whimsical fashion or bantering back and forth like an old married couple before they realized or questioned was what they did appropriate for master and slave.

Rumpel cleared his throat awkwardly before offering Belle a polite, if not distant, goodbye and whisked out of the home as if the tension that so often rose between them would cease to pursue him. One could only hope for the impossible of course.

~8~8~

Darkness fell in a heavy ominous blanket about the shaded forest of the wild wood. A milky vapor of mist floated inches above the moist leaf strewn ground in a wispy shroud of ghostly white that curled about the low grounded shrubbery like it hung about its boughs in some macabre decoration. The moon hung in a smiling thin slice of pale yellow that filtered through the thick canopy of black towering trees.

Nocturnal forest life hooted and chirped in haunted echoes about the shadowed glade. Small critters scrambled about the dense forest floor in anxious scurrying strides while gold and ruby eyes peered hungrily through the thick undergrowth stalking those without glistening fangs or razor claws…or swords for that matter.

Gaston paced in a semi-circled manner throughout an opening in-between the thick ancient trunks of the haunted wilderness. His mud caked boots crunched the freshly fallen leaves of rapidly approaching fall; his breath shooting small clouds of chilled vapors every time a tremulous waver let pass his lips.

The glint of steel reflected off the sparse beams of the moon that filtered through the copious leafy ceiling above him, as he toyed impatiently with the blade in his firm grip. He let it trail upon the loamy earth, its tip digging softly into the land tracing a clear line.

His ivory steed, who was fettered nearby, pawed and stamped at the dewed ground warily as if wanting any word from its master to bolt away from the haunted glade. Puffs of trepid breath billowed from its nostrils every time a sound pierced the chilling quiet. Its eyes rolled crazily in its head, whinny's of fright passing its lips every time the wind would bring the scent of danger and accursed magic.

The master of the horse paid no heed to the spooked creature as his hard chestnut eyes scanned everything about him. His skin and stubble sprawled along his chin began to prickle like spiders were creeping along his flesh; the sure sign of a magician being nearby.

"Well I must say you picked a rather scenic rendezvous spot to meet me." The well known and spine tingling voice of the Dark One echoed about the looming ominous trees.

In an instant Gaston's blade fell into an upraised angled position, his light brown eyes searching the murky darkness of the glade intently as if some spot would betray the high pitched voice. "I had to make sure you would come. In all my years of hunting I know a beast is drawn to where it feels most comfortable. Where would you feel more at ease than a dark forest where you can skulk about like the demon you are?" He deadpanned with a grimace.

"Fair enough." The voice replied so casually and close by the handsome knight could almost hear the lackadaisical shrug that went along with it.

Turning around sharply he found the Dark One sitting on a moss covered fallen long; thoroughly unimpressed at the sight of the man hefting the expertly cared for broadsword.

The magical fiend crossed his slender arms over his thick tunic and tapped a foot almost impatiently. "So what have you called me for then, eh? A magical sword, land, a war? What deed do you need done with the aid of my gifts, and what can you give me in return?" Rumpel asked; his wiry fingers flourishing through the air smugly.

"You don't remember me?" Gaston inquired his eyes narrowing, and blade dropping just a few inches.

"Should I?" The beast replied with an upraised eyebrow and a trifle of mock surprise in his tone. In fact he did remember who it was very clearly. Here stood the brutish moron that had been picked to husband Belle. His Belle.

The huntsman growled angrily, the noise almost like a rumble of distant thunder as he took a step towards the unconcerned, grinning fiend. "You stole away my would-be bride to be your slave."

"That's right." Rumpel snapped his dexterous fingers as if the knight's face suddenly came to mind. " But if I recall I didn't steal her away so much as she sold herself to me. That's what our deal entailed; for her to serve me for eternity."

"And that's why I called you." Gaston revealed. Leveling his blade to Rumpelstiltskin's throat, the brute held it evenly just under the devious fiends chin, ready to pierce through the gray-gold flesh in the blink of an eye. "I want to make a deal to get Belle back."

If the Dark One had any concern with a blade wavering so close to his jugular it never once showed. Rumpel did not even acknowledge the sword, but cackled in his manic way as if he found the situation slightly amusing. "Sorry, Dearie, but I don't make it a habit of altering my deals often."

The knight valiantly restrained himself from slicing, or trying to slice, the Dark One's head off his shoulder in sheer frustration. Until he could get Belle back the kingdom would be forever out of his reach. He would remain only a grand knight laden with debts that he could not pay, and more rising each passing day. To him the marriage of Belle would solve his entire problem and gain him wealth, power, prestige; all his if he could but marry the blasted wench!

"You could have any woman in all the realms." Gaston protested almost like a whining, petulant child. "One that's far more obedient and subservient than Belle."

Rumpel shook his head slightly, due to the blade tip hovering inches from his throat. "Ah but I don't any other." In fact he could think of no other woman who he would so enjoy about his grand estate. He could not imagine bandying words or striking a quip or two with some frightened bitter woman who hated him and scurried off at the very sight of him.

Belle was one of a kind, and that's why he would never, ever consider the thought of giving her up to this broad shouldered brute whose horse's backside probably had more sense than he.

"Oh but I do so abhor the ordinary. I wanted some one special to look after my collections and keep the castle tidy." He continued, his thin gray smile never leaving his lips.

Gaston snorted incredulously at Rumpel's words, his eyes rolling in annoyance. "Belle? There is nothing special about her." He spat distastefully, trying to reason with the maniacal monster to make him believe Belle wasn't worth it. "More like mouthy, doesn't know her place, reads and thinks too much instead of doing things that really matter." With a slight shake of his head, the knight banished those thoughts away to get back on track. Now was not the time to be talking about Belle's odd and sometimes irksome habits of learning.

"Here is my deal, Dark One. I'll find another, a better, slave girl for you to terrorize, and you give me back Belle." The brute chortled faintly at a bit of low brow humor that suddenly came to mind. "I'll bring you two if you managed to beat some of that speak-her-mind, thinking and learning garbage out of her. And to be fair, you've probably had all the fun with her that you're ever going to have. Why just have one boring bed warmer when you can have better."

A low, dark growl, blacker than the enveloping night rumbled out from the Dark One's throat and even Gaston, for all his unlearned ways, knew in some way he had probably crossed some sort of horrible line.

The fiend's onyx eyes glimmered with the mulled orange embers of anger as he glared intently at the knight. How dare he speak about Belle in such a manner! To treat and talk about her as if she were some sort of dumb animal that was only good for bargaining and corralling.

Rumpel adored everything Gaston hated about Belle, her wit, her intelligence, the way she became so entranced in a book then related it to him later, her eagerness to learn and her unstable curiosity. She was a beauty among the drab and this…moron this waste of brain cells and space wanted to barter for her like cattle at market day!

"I'll make you a better deal." Rumpel stated, though there was no giggle, no fiendish cackle, and no jester like flourish tacked on upon his words.

In an instant Gaston's sword was transformed into a giant reddish brown snake with hypnotizing black eyes that look akin to twin pools of a never ending abyss.

The knight could only watch in puzzlement then horror as the humongous cobra deftly twisted from his grip and wrapped around him in a crushing vice. He attempted crying out for help but the coils of the serpent only squeezed tighter, taking the air from his lungs and slowly ever tightening.

The pain brought hot tears to his eyes, as he felt his ribs on the cusp of shattering in the tight scales of the snake. Its ruby red tongue flicked against his ear making his shudder violently; a dangerous, hungry hiss oozing from its mouth.

Grabbing the huntsman's chiseled chin, the fiend gripped it tightly, letting his nails dig into his flesh until he felt warm driblets of blood run down through his wiry fingers. "Here's the deal. You will get back on your horse, go back to the insignificant kingdom you crawled from and never come back this way again. When you arrive you will speak to Belle's father and tell him that she is safe and alive within the halls of the Dark Castle. Assure him to the best of you dull abilities that she is not mistreated and I am not cruel to her. Tell him that she is content and wants for nothing, and she has a better life with me than she would have ever had with you!" His voice dropped suddenly, as he dug his claws out of the knight's flesh. "And in return I'll let you live with the knowledge that I have somthing you that will never be yours. That is the only deal."

The coils slowly began to loosen as the knight nodded his agreement to the terms, but Gaston hardly noticed the grip alleviating or the blood running down his face. He stared blinking almost in shock as even his dim brain put the pieces together.

Gaston might not be the sharpest sword in the armory, but he recognized blistering jealously when he heard it. He knew the flash of envy in the eyes of another as their woman flirted with him or the bitter jealously that emanated out of a man who had just found out his wife or wife to be had slept with the rugged knight. It was jealousy with just a hint in inadequacy laced behind it.

"You love her." He stated in a matter-of-fact rasp. The knight let out a bloody, gurgling, painful laugh that hurt Rumpel far more than it did the huntsman. "I did not think the Dark One could still possess such an emotion! You love her, but look at you." He sneered in Rumpel's face. "Your gangly body, sickly odd flesh, matted hair, talons. You want me to tell her father that you're _nice _to her, you're _kind, _and _gentle _with her."

Gaston could only laugh louder at the sudden off guard look that the Dark One exuded. He looked as if he had been caught red handed in some sort of horrendous crime at the slip of his tongue.

"Do you really think she would love something as ugly, tainted, hideous both inside and out such as you? Do you think she could, would, love a beast? Do you actually think she's _happy _with you? You hold her up and keep her as a slave because you know you could not have her willingly stay at your side. What woman as she could even stand you?" The knight scoffed, openly, blatantly mocking the famed Dark One.

Rumpel wanted to spit something back. He wanted to parry the idiot's words with anything that came to mind. He wanted to claim that he was not jealous of Gaston who was once to be engaged to Belle, who courted her and kissed her and openly spouted out words off affection. But then that would have been a lie. The moron had done everything that Rumpel could not do with Belle, and yes, that did make him jealous.

He would have killed the lout then and there for speaking to him in such a manner. The fiend could have devised a host of tortures to wail upon the stupid Gaston, but he had already struck his deal, and he would not go back upon it.

Suddenly the coils of the snake fell away. A mulled thump hit the ground as the last of the scales transformed back into a solid sword. Gaston knelt to pick it up, but the fiend placed his boot on the hilt keeping it in place. He glared murder at the knight, forcing himself not to turn the oaf into a firefly. "Begone."

Even Gaston wasn't stupid enough to challenge that order. The knight gathered up what little pride he had left off the forest floor, his eyes flashing daggers at the hated Dark One. He flicked his black cloak swirling it behind him as he growled angrily at Rumpel. The huntsman staggered waywardly to his spooked horse, but managed to quell the ivory steed's fear as he leapt upon the back expertly.

"I'll have Belle as my wife, make no mistake about that!" He shrieked like a ghastly banshee then galloped off towards the main road, his horse churning up black clods of moist soil in its wake.

Rumpel's eyes followed for as long as they could until the knights horse was out of view and the thundering of hooves grew to a faint rumble in the night. It was only then, when he was certain he was alone, that the magical fiend let a disheartened sigh pass his lips.

Picking up the sword, the beast planted himself back down upon the mossy log. He held the cold steel that reflected the moon up to his face in his open palms.

Scaly, tough, gray-gold skin, and soulless midnight eyes; the very nightmare of little ones. He pulled at his skin as if it might peel off but it remained still as rough, grotesque and toad like as ever.

With a dark grimace he wondered how Belle could even tolerate to look at him everyday. His jagged teeth and pointed nails and all around beastliness.

The knight, for all his stupidity was correct. What beauty such as Belle could love a beast?

~8~8~

It was late before Rumpel arrived back home. The torches were burning low in their sconces and the hour candle had waned to about one nub; the yellowish wax pooling about the base and dripping to the stone floor like melting icicles.

Even so, the hearth in the main hall still glowed brightly making flickering shadows dance across the tapestries and curtains.

He stalked in; hoping to sit in his chair to become lost in thought as he stared at the crackles logs, but to his surprise found Belle nestled there instead. Her russet curls fell pleasantly about her face, her chest moving at a slow tempo, and her knees drawn up slightly.

He couldn't help but let a smile tug at the edge of his lips as he looked down upon the peaceful woman, knowing she had tried to stay up to see him home. She was what it meant to be beautiful in every aspect of the word, Rumpel thought. And she was his, all his, forever. The Dark One frowned at the possessive thought and shook his head ruefully. No, people like Gaston categorized Belle as a thing. She was her own woman, outspoken and thoughtful and wonderful and…Belle.

A chill suddenly whispered through the keep making the lovely woman before him unconsciously shiver. Rumpel immediately unclasped his cloak she had been so adamant he take and threw it over her, hoping his warmth would protect her from the drafts of cold. He wanted to always protect her.

His hand inched near her face to knock back a rebellious tendril of hair, but he paused himself to stare at the stark contrast of her flawless porcelain skin and his wiry rough claw that hovered over it. Gaston's words bit again in his heart like a rabid wolf ripping and tearing at it wantonly.

Slowly he furled his hand back as if touching her might taint or scar her in some way.

She was so peaceful, so beautiful resting there that he had a difficult time turning away. Yet the idiot Gaston's words refused to leave the fiend alone. Did he really think she was happy here all alone with him, or were the words of a foolish brute spot on?

"I hope you find a little happiness here with me, Belle." He whispered so quietly the words barely made sound, yet they were said almost with a solemn pleading. "All I want is for you to be happy."

~8~8~

Gaston should have gone back towards his homeland, but of course he would not. Stupidity now mingled with sullied pride did tend to make even a very clear and very plausible threat by the Dark One fall upon deaf ears.

The knight cantered moodily down the deserted dirt road, now weaponless as well as desperate. His shoulders hunched over almost dejectedly with his body still throbbing in aches from the huge serpent that had nearly crunched him between its thick coils.

If he couldn't by himself claim Belle then perhaps another wielder of magic could aid him to pry the wench form the beasts grip and in doing so obtain the key to all his desires.

Perching his head up to the sprawling velvet expanse of the early autumn night sky, the huntsman searched for the well known glimmering stars to guide his path then set out north to find the famed queen who was said to be the fairest in all the land.


	11. Homesick

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Oh and sorry for not posting this up yesterday, finals are not fun…_

**~8~8~**

Belle sighed wistfully as she cleaned the last tearing streak of soapy water off the large window pane. The remnants of the liquid faded into crystal nothingness leaving Belle to scan the estate and the mountains that sprawled against the azure sky.

Autumn was in full swing; the trees donned their glorious hues and were beginning to shed their vibrant plumage across the forest floor. The air was crisp and the scents of the village harvest were alive in the air as townsmen and farmers from the little shire made preparations for winter. The fresh hearty whiffs of tilled earth and wood smoke from their labors drifted towards the ominous castle nestled in the mountains, filling the air with an array of lovely smells.

The colors, the smells, and even the crisp chill in the air all reminded Belle of her old and far away home. Autumn was a special time for her people and she couldn't help but think about the holiday that had so long been conjured around it.

The Harvest Moon festival would be fast approaching the village of Avonlea and the peasantry and nobles alike would be racing around in a good humored flurry to have everything prepared.

The people of her old land worked frenziedly to bring in all their crops by the time of the Harvest Moon, where the huge lunar orb took on an orange pallid luminance that reminded one of a ripe pumpkin that represented the end of harvest.

With the help of bonfires to aid the always luminescent glow of the moon, the entire village would carouse outside in the open cool night air and sit at festively garland tables fashioned with hues of mulled orange and burgundies that blended well with the season. The people would dance about the roaring hypnotizing flames of the bonfires, sing songs that were long forged in the town's history about battle and loves, and listen to traveling bards that passed through telling tales of far off lands and partake of a sumptuous feast that celebrated a good harvest.

Even if it had been a poor crop season, they still celebrated if just to spit in the eye of cold father winters face. It had become tradition in the little towns and shires of her fathers land. A tradition that she admittedly would miss.

But, she supposed there would be some sadness of leaving the only home she'd ever known. It was where she had grown up; surely no one could protest her having a slight ache for her old life.

Smiling slightly, the beauty shook the thought away as she dumped the rag back into the bucket of cold water and headed to dump the grimy liquid out. She probably would miss home even more if Rum didn't treat her so well. Belle couldn't suppress a girlish giggle and another warm smile as her master came to mind. The beauty didn't think she could tolerate toiling for any one else save him.

For all his infamous reputation of being an evil entity that toyed and tricked with the heartbroken and desperate, Belle did not see that side of him too often anymore. Granted, she knew what lurked inside him and knew he was aptly dubbed the Dark One, but it was hard to see it or believe it was there when the man most people termed a monster left a snack for her while she labored or even made her work even lighter than normal.

She had to laugh as she recalled the many instances of watching him peer behind a darkened corner or a doorway (although she was certain he didn't know that she knew he was there) to see if she found his kind gift he left for her.

He acted akin to some shy admirer, leaving tokens of affection for her to find in place of the words he could not deem to say. It was endearing in its own way, Belle admitted to herself; endearing and lovely and...

Oh what was she thinking! Belle forced herself not to groan at her stupidity as she traversed the halls with her burden of sloshing water. Sometimes she had to curse her fertile imagination, seeing things that weren't there or jumping and bounding to conclusions. Who was she to think him some intrepid soul who had a crush on her, but some chivalrous code kept him at bay from scooping her up in his arms and proclaiming his feelings.

"Just because you feel one way about him doesn't mean he feels the same." She chided herself sternly. No matter what things he did for her, Rum was odd to say the least; who knew the reason behind his actions?

Perhaps his treatment of her affected her wild and ridiculous notions of love. When she had first come here Belle had never expected to be treated this way. Her always fanciful imagination only focused on the eerie tales told around inn hearths, and all the stories she had read about monstrous beasts who took captives or spirited away maidens to lock in towers.

There had even been a soldier once who had come to the palace of her father and told a tale of meeting the Dark One in the midst of a battle field and struck a bargain with him to save his life. He saved his life alright, but had lost so much more.

The first week she expected him to treat her cruelly and perhaps even ravish her, but now she realized how foolish those terror laden thoughts were and even had a bit of anger with herself that she had once thought he was capable of such dastardly actions. Despite his beastly demeanor there was a polite gentlemen hidden behind the scaly gray-gold flesh.

Inwardly the beauty was glad that if this had to be her only fate then she was actually happy it'd been him who had taken her. Other men, less honorable, men wouldn't have thought twice about mistreating her or even harming her for cruel amusement. But Rum, never.

A blush came unbidden to her cheeks as he forced herself to stop thinking about the Dark One. She could barely get him off her mind most of the time, she didn't need him barging into her contemplations of home!

Opening the servant's kitchen door, the beauty heaved the bucket tossing the water unto the estate grasses. She placed the bucket right outside the door to the side then leaned against the door jam. Her arms were crossed as she peered out into the land that she was forbidden to tread, and let the wafting breezes of autumn assail her face.

She couldn't deny it, no matter how decently Rum treated her; she missed home.

~8~8~

Belle wasn't her normally vivacious self lately, Rumpel noticed as he peered at her intently through quickly spared glances. He sat at his usual haunt, spinning the heaps of ugly cheep straw into flaxen strands of beautiful gold, but his eyes and mind were focused entirely upon his less than cheerful servant.

She had been this way of late, a shadow of her inquisitive, talkative, witty self that now sat trapped behind a wistful look in her ice blue eyes. A contemplative frown often graced her soft lips rather than her usual beaming smile, and even when she did grin the faint upturn of her mouth seemed half-hearted at best. Sighs where laughs had once frolicked were most often heard now. They sounded longing, but in a way where she knew her desire would not come to pass; a far away dream that she wanted to be real as it where.

For the life of Rumpelstiltskin he could not place what was wrong. Anything she asked for he mostly granted; her very desire was his goal to acquire for her; be it pearls from the depths of the blackest ocean or stars from the farthest reach of the onyx firmament. Not that she ever asked for such ridiculous things, if rarely anything at all. Belle was a surprisingly content soul never needing much and cherishing what she did have, but if she ever did take a fancy to something he would always see her want met in some way.

Her work was not strenuous or back breaking and he always made sure she did not labor too long in the day. She might be a slave, but he wasn't a driving, demanding taskmaster.

So what in heavens name was wrong with her?

She sighed again, softly as usual, but the faint sound was very easy for the Dark One to pick up with his sharp hearing. Her gaze looked out of the sparkling clear windows towards the valley below, and beyond as she absently stirred a cup of tea.

A slight furrow of her brow was the only indication outward that something was amiss inside the lovely Belle. Rumpel had been around her for so long that he could translate the slightest hint about her beautiful body and read it as easily as a book.

"Is something troubling you, Belle?" Rumpel inquired softly if not hypothetically. His hand had stopped spinning the huge wooden wheel, but his other kept the thread tightly between two fingers.

He looked at her clearly now, seeing no reason to simply pretend that he hadn't been looking at her through every now and again glances from his loom.

Belle donned a half won smile, trying her best to seem right. "Not at all."

She didn't counter with a question, Rumpel immediately pointed out inwardly; now he was certain than ever before something troubled her.

Placing the thread down gingerly, the fiend stood up slowly to stretch his stiff bulk from staying in one position for so long before padding cautiously over to her. "Come now, Dearie, we both know you're a terrible liar. I don't even have to use magic to see that something is wrong."

The beauty tilted her head down, letting her chestnut curls drape across her face as she slowly stirred the warm brew in her hands, not offering a reply. If only he knew what longing she felt for home. Would he disapprove of such feelings; become his usual inappropriate quipping self?

She didn't want him to think she hated it here, but what could she say; the woman who sold away her own freedom pined for home?

"Are you ill?" He pressed on gently, his head cocking slightly to the side as if a new angle would reveal a hidden pain wallowing inside his Belle. His hands fell over hers as he removed the cup slowly from her grasp to place on the table.

Belle bit her bottom lip slightly, a mirthless chuckle wanting to spring up at the irony of his words, but she fought it back down. "In a way." She admitted quietly forcing herself not to shudder from the tender touch of his fingers against her own.

In an instant his hand glowed vibrant purple with a hint of black flecking in the mix. Dark magic swirled through the air, filling her nostrils with its sweet yet sickly odor that left a bitter taste on her tongue. She could almost feel his magic pulsing against her skin as he moved a few inches closer.

"Where do you hurt?" He asked firmly to hide the panic that had suddenly swelled within him. His marble ebony orbs searched her intently, wanting to take the pain away.

"I'm not sick, physically." Belle explained, with a touch more of a genuine smile than before towards her master. The beauty shook her head slightly before knocking her russet tresses from her face. "It's nothing to be concerned about."

"Belle." Rumpel stated her name in a plain firm manner that warranted none of her dodging of brushing it away. She was sad, and he hated to see her saddened. He wanted his old Belle back, to see her laughing and smiling and anything she required to be that same wonderful Belle that made his heart smile he would garner for her.

She shrugged feigning carelessness. "I am a trifle homesick I suppose."

_Homesick_, Rumpel echoed the word in his head as if it were a filthy curse, a deep frown cascading across his thin lips. There were many things he could cure, but that wouldn't, couldn't, be one of them.

Did he not make her content enough here where her old life didn't matter? Why couldn't she just forget about it like he had done for all his centuries and face the fact that that part of life was over and dead and gone and nothing was going to bring it back.

Was she not happy here?

He grimaced inwardly at the thought, of course she wasn't; what woman would be happy being the slave of a monster. No matter what he did, no matter how kind he was to her that fact would never change.

"I can't fix that." He snapped suddenly, a faint snarl coming to his face as he transformed from the concerned equal to the cold master. The magic that flamed around his hand flickered and died so that only a talon remained. "You sold yourself to me and now you must deal with your choice."

"I know this." Belle countered gently as if facing a child with an oncoming temper tantrum. Her soothing timbre quelled the indignant rage stewing with in the Dark One, and gutted out the flames before they could rise too high. "I except and even come to enjoy that this is my home now and forever; but have you ever had something or someone in a part of your life that you missed? Have you felt the aching sickness that feels more acute than any real pain?"

Of course he did, he felt that pain and knew it everyday, which was why he spun so much gold. Every mile and inch of flaxen shimmering strings upon the spools was time he had spent trying so hard to block memories and moments with what he used to know.

After so many centuries, and an entire store room of thread that could never be spent in three lifetimes, the pain had become only the slightest bit dull, making it possible to carry on every day with out wanting to break down and weep. But it would never be fully gone.

He snorted once in irritation as he crossed his arms. "Then why do you hang onto those memories and longings instead of trying to forget? I have potions that will take those things from your mind."

"Because I don't want to forget. I would lose a part of me that I still cherish even though it hurts." She replied simply as if trying to teach a child.

Rumpel stared at her critically for a moment before his black eyes flashed in vexation. She wanted the memories that would make her heart ache for the nostalgia of time gone by? Why would anyone choose to keep their pain when they could forget it to the fine clear liquid of a memory wipe potion? But then again he had never opted for that recourse either; he paused suddenly at the thought banishing it from surfacing as quickly as it had come.

"Fine, keep your pain." He growled. "Day dream and wish for home all you want, but that's all its ever going to be- a dream. You are stuck with the beast forever whether you like it or not!"

"Rumpel that's not what I mean-" The words died on her throat as he disappeared before she could finish. He had probably gone to his apothecary to brood like he usually did when a foul mood gripped him.

Sighing, this time in frustration, Belle slumped into a chair her hand rubbing the edge of her temple. How could she make him understand that yes she missed home, but was content in this one as well? Not that he would believe her anyway; she was dubious anyone would believe that she liked living with him. In truth she could barely believe it herself.

~8~8~

"She wants for nothing, she is free to gain as much knowledge she pleases at her leisure, there is no one breathing down her neck to be something that she would hate to be, and yet she misses that little back woods kingdom!" Rumpel snarled aloud as he paced through his apothecary.

Potions bubbled and stewed, while little things either caught in jars or running free upon the stone floor squeaked and scurried about. This was the one place where Belle was banished from cleaning. It was his sanctuary as much as the library was hers. He folded his hands behind his back as he trailed back and forth talking aloud to himself.

How could she miss a place that frowned upon women desiring knowledge or trying to be more than pretty little trinkets for men? How could she miss a place where her father had bartered her for marriage to a brute that probably couldn't even spell his name?

Rumpel's heart suddenly plummeted into the deepest parts of his stomach as he thought about her once engagement. Could she miss Gaston? Was it he that she pined for and thought of as she stared out the windows and sighed in want? Could it have really been love she felt for him even if the brute did not feel the same? Such things were uncommon, but not unheard of. Who knew, perhaps Belle did have a liking for the hulking, moronic types.

But no, he couldn't believe that Belle would find anything to like about Gaston. Scoffing once, angrily, he turned to his shelves and jars of regents to try and take his mind off her.

Whatever she yearned for from her old home didn't matter. She was his now and forever, and if she didn't want to be happy here that was her problem.

He couldn't help but sigh as he pulled the vials and glasses from their perches. If only he could truly make himself believe that.

~8~8~

That night they ate in silence, both frustrated with the other. The only sound that passed between them was the click of spoons upon bowls or the scrape of a fork over a barely touched plate.

Why could he not understand what she meant?

Why couldn't she be happy with him and forget her old life?

Master and slave sat on opposing ends of the table, there heads down as they plucked and picked absently at their meal; sending crumbs and little flecks of food crossing about the wooden plates.

Sometime they threw glances at one another as if they simply could not figure the other out or some new clue to why they did what they did would be revealed. It'd grow awkward when they both did it at the same time; a blush springing to her cheek while he would cough awkwardly. They'd both stare at something else for a moment before turning back to their meals in another melancholy silence.

Belle hoped it wouldn't always be like this. She wanted him to understand and know that just because she missed her old home didn't mean she was unhappy at the Dark Castle. But he didn't seem to understand that. Didn't he know that she did not see him as the beast that enslaved her?

At first she might have thought of him as the snarling dragon dragging her away to his lair, but then she saw what lay beneath the scales and that over threw his beastliness. It was just so frustrating that she couldn't make him understand that!

Forcing herself not to sigh, the beauty turned her head to the window for lack of anything better to do. She had to do a double take at the sight.

Thousands of lights illuminated the estate ground fluttering and flickering in the air and on the ground like miniscule lanterns. They swarmed the entire air in beautiful lights that took her breath away.

"What is that?" She asked breathlessly, her eyes sparkling in wonderment.

Rumpel arched a brow at her reaction as he turned to look at what she was seeing. A frown formed at his lips as he saw the multitude of lights glowing and swaying in the moon lit night. "Fireflies. They always come out in mass when the harvest moon is out." He shrugged in reply.

He had forgotten about the little pests that swarmed on this night; there was some legend behind them, but he had long cast aside such a foolish tale.

His ebony eyes fell back upon the beauty who watched the tiny glows of luminescence outside upon the estate grounds. This was the first time in a week he had seen her act her normal self, making an idea come to his mind. "Would you like to go out and see them?" He asked suddenly as he put his spoon down.

She turned her head to him, her cobalt eyes alight in a way that warmed him all over. "Could we?" She asked precariously as if it was only a trick.

"If that is your wish." Rumpel assured her as he stood up from the table. He should have known the answer before he even asked it; Belle wanting to experience something new would be an immediate yes from her. "Fetch one of my spare cloaks and we'll be off."

The night was chillier than Rumpel had expected it to be, but he showed no discomfort from the nip in the air. His breath hissed out in a thin wisp of vapor as master and servant tracked out upon the estate.

The entire land was aglow in the lights of the fireflies that hummed and swooped through the air as if celebrating the autumn moon as well.

To Belle they all looked akin to floating jewels of topaz that danced upon the air and zipped through the dark grass. The air practically was filled with them, but not in a stifling way. "It's wonderful, isn't it, Rum." Belle commented as she held out her hands. The tiny insects landed on her open palm for a moment before zipping off again.

They swirled about the two foreign entities of the night in curiosity then playfulness. They buzzed and landed upon them, their orbs of light flickering happily as if offering them to dance with them.

Rumpel was less than amused by the glowing insects; his arms were crossed reprovingly as he glared at the spectacle. He could have done away with the pests for good, but Belle seemed to be enjoying it well enough. He harrumphed at her words, merely shrugging. "If you call wonderful dancing in a field of bugs, please be my guest."

The fiend watched in hidden amusement for it did look as if the bugs were prodding her out to dance with them. They swirled and played about her as if asking her to partake in a ballroom foxtrot.

From the corner of her eye Belle watched the Dark One as he leaned against a tree staring at her. His eyes followed every trace of her graceful movements eagerly, making the beauty want to blush against his marble gaze. But still, his hungry perusal of the eyes wasn't going to make her shy away from the wonderful night.

As she twirled about the field of swaying fireflies, the sadness seemed to lift from her like a veil. She missed home, yes, but she realized she didn't miss home so much as the memories that home held. The laughter, smiles and tears would all be missed, but they should be cherished not brooded over.

She would miss what once was, but now it was time to forge new memories of her new home. Lives changed, time moved on; such was the way of the world.

"I have cured my homesickness." Belle stated victoriously to the fiend as she managed to stagger out of the streams of lightening bugs. Her breathing was a bit heavy, but her smile was as wide as he had ever seen it.

Rumpel smirked slightly, one of his chuckles escaping his lips faintly. "Do tell, Dearie."

She poked him once in his chest, and laughter that was far overdue bubbled up like a brook that watered the Dark One's heart. "I craved reminiscence and the memories of my old life; that's what was making me homesick. But since this is my home forever, I shall simply have to make memories with you!"


	12. Queen and Knight

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing and all that good stuff!_

**~8~8~**

Over time, the more Regina thought about her plan to infiltrate the stronghold of the Dark One, the more she grew to curse her rash decision of finding out whom the woman in the mirror had been. Belle, as she was called; the kind slave who had allowed her into Rumpelstiltskin's castle and in doing so allowed a crack in his seemingly impenetrable fortress.

Part of her hurry had been in fear the girl would admit to her master she had pulled back the shroud that had been placed upon the enchanted mirror, and in doing so ruin her chances to infiltrate. Rumpel would never simply let some one toil away in his home with out giving her some rules to abide by and Regina would bet anything that had been one of the first- don't pull the drape from the mirror.

But besides her hasty plot at a bit of espionage, she had learned that the woman was in love with the Dark One. That much was obvious, but the longer she thought about it the longer she had for the thoughts to ferment and form properly. Of course the foolish twit might love Rumpel, but that in no means meant the imp loved her back. And even if he did, Rumpel was a fickle creature; one could never be sure of his thoughts but himself.

He might feel the same about her, he might not; such were his fly by whims and irritating fancies. And even if he did feel something for his little servant, Belle could fall out of her foolish whims of love towards the Dark One!

Regina couldn't stifle an irritated sigh as she rested against the fount in her atrium. The small sanctuary sat away from the main part of her castle and was decorated grandly with dark tile mosaics that festooned the walls with scenes of dark ravens and black hearts. Large stained glass windows of onyx and rose flushed the room in dank mulled light. And few plush benches were spread out about the room even though she was the only one who ever deemed to stay in the rather omnious chamber.

She swirled a finger through the cold water of the fountain that sat dead center of the room; flicking dribblets to the tiled floor. The liquid took on a flash of light from the stained glass windows making the water transform into a blood red tint. A sneer came to her face as she thought about the useless emotion known as love.

Love was an extremely dangerous game to play against anyone especially the infamous Dark One. In order to win one had to traverse the pitfalls of annoying emotions, hardened hearts, and the traps that waited about every corner for those who wished to manipulate that love. Having plans backfire on you also came with the territory of playing with some one's heart strings; something Regina was not willing to let happen to her in trepidation of facing the blazing wrath of a furious Dark One.

There were simply too many variables to rely on if she desired to thwart him with love from one useless slave girl.

Balling her hand into a tightly clenched fist, she snarled savagely, cursing herself inwardly as she paced in the atrium of her palace. Some times she could just hate her impetuous actions!

_Hate_, the singular word rattled through her like an icy wind that curled against her mind, and sparked her deviousness to life. A thin wicked grin donned her ruby red lips as a low conniving chuckle purred from her throat.

Why had she not seen it before! Hate was much simpler to control. The Evil Queen knew perfectly well what hate was capable of; how easy it was to manipulate and make even the most intelligent act the Village Fool.

If she could get the love struck girl to hate the nefarious Rumpelstiltskin then his days would surely be numbered. Belle could relate all his movements to her as she plotted and waited for the most opportune moment to strike, or learn his weaknesses. The woman would be useful in weaseling out just what could pierce the Dark One's black heart to bring him to his knees.

Yes, if she could make Belle absolutely loathe Rumpelstiltskin then Regina could see no down side. She would get to a point where she completely loathed her life trapped in the somber Dark Castle, and that's when Regina would show up promising revenge and escape.

If the woman was discovered a spy, then she was very dispensable, if she did her job well then she was still very dispensable. All she had to do was make the little servant girl absolutely abhor Rumpelstiltskin.

"My lady." A guard interrupted her scheming thoughts warily; his voice sounding hollow and squeaky behind his black helm. "A thousand pardons for disrupting your thoughts, but a visitor comes to the castle."

Regina growled irritably at the guards cowering voice, but her devilishly pleasing thoughts had put her in fair mood where she deemed not to turn him into an insect or incinerate him just yet.

Flicking her well manicured hand dismissingly in his direction she gave a disgust snort then turned back to the tall stain glass windows that were decorated in vibrant hues of red and black and surrounded the atrium. The dark mulled colors cast the entire sanctuary in a multitude of shadowed hues giving the place of respite a more devious nature. "Tell the peasants to go away; I'm not seeing anyone today."

"But…" The guard began stupidly, but dribbled off a moment later. His mouth went dry with terror as he stared wide eyed at the evil queen and wondered what possibly possessed him to take it any further.

The queen spun about sharply on her heel, her eyes blazing at the useless sack of armored flesh that would dare say another word to her after she had dismissed him. "But what?" She growled through clenched teeth, her eyes narrowing dangerous.

The guard blanched to a ghastly white, his words stammering in the face of the powerful and ruthless ruler. "My lady it is a knight who comes to the castle. He says he needs your help in defeating the Dark One."

The words admittedly made Regina's full lips twitch slightly in amusement, making most of her anger drain away. She hadn't heard something so amusing in many a day. One knight, probably some valiant honorable warrior seeking glory, was off on a quest to find and slay the beast. A few managed to pop up from some obscure kingdom every couple of centuries as the stories told. Alas, another idiotic soul was trying to venture and seek fame and riches, only to obliviously come upon disaster and utter ruin at the hand of the Dark One.

Just the many ways the irksome Rumpel could win a battle against the ludicrous ambitions of a mere mortal knight almost had her breaking out into a chuckle.

"Very well." She nodded sagely to the still quivering guardsmen, her words poisonously sweet. "I will grant the knight audience to see what he wants my help for." She chortled darkly as the sentry went scurrying away. "It should at least give me a laugh if nothing else."

The knight was just the cut-of- the-mold Regina had expected him to be as she entered her dazzling court. He stood tall and broad shouldered a chiseled though stubble chin, short cropped black hair in the usual military fashion, and lack luster black eyes that had probably seen much blood shed.

His clothes were of fine quality but rather rumpled with thick mud splotches streaking here and there along the sky blue fabric, telling he had been on the road for quite some time and perhaps had gotten into some sort of scuffle. The only thing out of place Regina could see what that his scabbard about his belt dangled empty.

The queen strode into her court gracefully, everything about her bespoke elegance and fairness from her person. Her full lips were a bright glossy crimson that was starling against the pale of her skin, and her eyes held cunning behind them so vile it would make even the heartiest guard shrivel inside with terror if one even venture to guess what thought danced behind her sharp jasper orbs.

Gaston could not help but be put in awe by the famed queen who was rumored to be fairest in all the land. Perhaps it was her studious courtliness or the press of dark magic that eked from out of her, but he found himself kneeling upon the cold marble floor in her presence as if basking in her devious glory.

Sliding smoothly into her throne, Regina's hawk eyes took everything into account of the man before her. His coat of arms looked to be from a minor trader king far away in the south lands, Maurice by name, and he looked as if he had held his own in a couple of fights. She ventured to guess just by his request and the thick dull look he had about him, he was probably dumb as a post.

"Name?" Regina demanded casually as she tucked a delicate hand under her chin in boredom.

Gaston swallowed hard in nervousness, sweat prickling the back of his neck and making his nerves tingle like they did before a battle. Perhaps this hadn't been one of his better ideas, but it was far too late to turn back now. "Gaston, fair queen." He replied, hoping a bit a pandering and ego stroking would at least give him half a chance.

"Sir Gaston." The queen mulled over the name slowly as if savoring it between her rose red lips. A faint smirk marbled across her features as she stared down at the kneeling knight errant. "My guard tells me you wish to defeat the Dark One, so you come here to ask for my aid."

"_'Wish'_ I think would not be the correct word, fair queen." Gaston protested heroically, turning on his instinctive charm most ordinary women found appealing. Many times a blush would tinge their cheeks or they'd giggle like little girls again when he bantered with the common woman. He knew how to play the gallant knight even if he was far removed from that title. "I _will _slay that beast if it's the last thing I do."

Regina chuckled darkly, yet mirthlessly forcing herself not to shake her head at the utter foolishness at the veil of feigned chivalry. "And why do you need to so badly slay this beast? Fame and glory? Riches?" She asked slyly; perching a thin brow. "Surely there are other, less perilous, battles to fight. Wars to be declared, bandits to slay? Why do you so desire to risk life and limb to fight the Dark One?"

"He has something that he stole from me. I was engaged to be married to a woman he carried off to be his slave. And now I need to get her back." He replied fervently.

Now that caught Regina's attention. Immediately her cunning mind turned from the object of having a few laughs at the knight expense to suddenly deadly serious.

"Leave us." She spat plainly to the sentries that guarded the throne room; her hands gripping the armrests tightly to hold back her sudden excitement.

The only reply saw the scuffling and clinking of armor as the guards departed far to readily; more than happy to be out of their vicious queen's presence.

"He has a woman kept prisoner in her castle?" She feigned surprise and slight disgust at the knights words as she leaned closer towards him. "How long has he kept her enthralled there?"

"Many months; nearly a year." Gaston informed her eagerly, seeing a window of opportunity to slither in. "I have traveled leagues to seek her but I cannot find the lair which the beast resides."

Regina pursed her lips slightly eyeing the knight intently. "You must care for this woman a great deal to come such a distance."

"I love Belle with all my heart." He lied expertly, letting the words flow smoothly from his mouth. His whole demeanor looked to be a love struck knight, on a never ending journey to find his true love, but Regina saw through it as clear as glass.

He didn't love the girl. Regina for all her savagery and ruthlessness that dwelled within her heart knew what love was and what it looked like and he did no have it. No, something else had claimed his heart. Money, power, control, desperation? A combination of all?

"You lie." She stated plainly, not upset, just simply stating a fact.

Gaston's heart clenched at the two simple words that cut into him like knives to reveal his dishonesty. How could she see through him so well? "No fair queen! I come seeking guidance to the Dark One's lair, and perhaps shown a way on how to drive him back into the black pits of Hades he crawled from. The foul beast bartered for my love's life to save our home, but I cannot simply let him have her as if she were a piece of furniture or an animal!" Gaston stated firmly as he humbly tried to argue against Regina's perceptive words.

Regina snorted indifferently, casually rolling her eyes. "Oh do stop with the false nobility. You layer it on far too thick. No, I see what you want." She grinned slyly as she arose from her throne and paced around the kneeling knight. The rhythmic click of her shoes was the only sound that echoed through the large court as a clever finger traced against his cloaked muscled shoulder blade as she circled him. "I see the fire behind your eyes; I recognize the stench coming off your flesh. You don't care for her, you only want what prestige and power there will be from saving her and claiming her as your own."

She could almost hear his heart flutter like a bird disturbed from its secret hiding place from a hunter. She hit the nail right on the head and knew it.

Gaston made a little coughing sound that sounded rather forced as he attempted to re-gather himself. "With all due respect your majesty my reasons are my own."

"Tell me the truth." Regina persisted as she halted in front of the kneeling knight. Her eyes scanned him intently, reading every twitch and shift of his body. "Do you want the girl for her love, or for what her marriage will garner for you? Speak truthfully and I will be able to help you."

Gaston paused for a moment, giving the words some deep painful thought which he was not used to at all. After a moment he nodded and dare raise his eyes to meet hers; power hungry meeting power hungry. "I want her fathers land, I want to be king, I want it all, and Rumpelstiltskin is preventing it from coming to pass."

Regina could not help but smile at his words; the brute before her might be a dim witted moron, but he certainly had his priories straight.

The fool would have great uses if she played her cards right. It was almost too good to be true! Placing a well manicured hand over his broad shoulder, she leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "Then let's get to work on giving you a kingdom."

~8~8~

_My King, _

_I am much saddened to write to you of my journey to rescue my betrothed. I finally caught the Dark One in a trap in a place known as the Wild Wood. The battle was glorious, and I fought the fiend bravely with steel against his dark magic's, but the monster proved too strong even for me. _

_I told him to let Belle free, even as he finally managed to enthrall me with his sorceries, and was planning to rip my heart out with his bare hands. He merely laughed in my face at my bravado and told me to return home to relate the harsh condition of your daughter. He said to tell you that Belle was miserable and that she pined and wept for her home and I, her true love. She lives deplorably and in constant fear of her volatile master who treats her no better than an animal. He speaks of her as nothing more than a lowly bed warmer or tavern harlot meant only for virile filthy pleasures. My heart constricts and face grows pallid when I even think of the tortures he inflicts upon her!_

_I would tell you none of this, to spare your weak heart, but even as I write, the beast placed a curse upon me to relate these things to you in some way. But I will find, Belle. I swear upon my sword and shield to bring her home if it takes me the last of my might!_

_-Gaston_

It was a good letter Gaston had to admit as he read each word at a strained and slowed pace; his thick brow was furrowed and midnight eyes squinted up as he finished pronouncing the words he knew and skipping over the others.

He gripped the small piece of parchment covetously in his battle worn hands as if it were pure gold. He had certainly paid enough coin for a scribes apprentice to write it up, and as far as the knight was concerned the lad had earned every silver.

His own version of the letter, Her Majesty had ordered him to write, had literally been three lines that mostly read: 'Almost got him. Still looking'.

After she had perused the stupidly short phrases, Regina had flashed him a look of incredulity and perhaps disgust as she suggested he take it to a scribe to write up.

Gaston was thankful for that advice for the apprentice had transformed his few short sentences that were barely decipherable into something that actually sounded chivalrous and death defying if not a touch too romantic. It was short, sweet, and to the point and would dump loads of worry unto Belle's father.

Who knew, even if his quest failed to bring Belle back home the king might rule him his successor for attempting the daring rescue or at least Regina had said so.

The brutish huntsman even pricked his finger to smear a few blood stains on the paper to make it look a bit more authentic. "There!" He chuckled proudly, admiring his finishing touches.

He pushed the scrap of parchment away from his face to look at it in admiration before he folded it and stashed it away in his pocket. He patted it for good measure as he maneuvered through the busy streets of the queen's kingdom. First he would pay a messenger to take his letter to the king, and then he was off to start upon the second phase of their plan.

~8~8~

Fire burned bright inside a Vintner's shop as Gaston along with a few of the queens men wrought havoc upon the quaint distillery that was nestled miles away from Her Majesty's kingdom.

The wine maker could only watch in numb terror as the knights rode in like bats out of hell to senselessly demolish he life's works for no practical reason. Casks and barrels were punctured and shattered with swords and maces, or drunk from the rowdy knight who raided the shop.

His hops and grapes were smashed under steel boots or horse hooves and thrown out; destroying a whole year's harvest that would leave his whole family in ruin.

Gaston watched it all with satisfaction as he made sure no cask or barrel remained full, no jug or crock un-shattered, no wine skin not slashed to rags. He made certain to poach and shatter every liquid container in the store room and house until the floor was sloshed with spirits.

After that was completed and he was more than a little buzzed, the knight took out a bottle from the satchel on his side that the queen had given him.

The glass glowed a bright jasper in the fire lit darkness. In the glints of reflecting light he could just make out some red flecks that swirled in the mixture of dark alcohol. Whatever her majesty had done to the brew, Gaston knew incisively it was potent and dangerous. Shaking off a shiver, he stashed it in an unseen corner amidst the chaos and loosely covered it with warm ash and moist spirit soaked dirt.

If everything went right this bottle would be the start to the demise of the Dark One, or so the Queen had assured the dim Gaston. The fiend would be drawn here, or so they hoped, by the cries and pleas of the wine maker.

Rumpel preyed upon the desperate, and that's what the balding, terrified vintner was going to be by the suns first light.

As the last of the dregs were drained at the sharp, heavy musk of alcohol waded through the chill misty night air, Gaston and his loaned cronies set out back to the palace from a job well done. Leaving a desperate man and a wine bottle behind.

~8~8~

"Looks like a tornado decided to have a little party here." Rumpel commented with a snickering giggle as he casually surveyed damage to a vintners shop.

The floor and grass was still sticky and damp from the night, but only a faint odor remained rising from the ruin of barrels and casks now only good for fire wood and splinters.

The poor wine maker was a mess, merely staggering about the wreckage still in his ruffled night clothes wandering about in a daze almost. Now that the Dark One was here he found himself pleading to the magician to reverse the damage. "Please, you have to help me. My whole life was tied up in this business! I'll be ruined." He clapped his hands together pitiably falling to his knees in desperation.

"A bit too late for that." Rumpel observed carelessly as he kicked a length of wood with the tip of his boot. "Oh certainly I can undo the damaged here and make everything ship shape. The question is." He paused, grinning maliciously. "Is there anything you have that I want?"

The poor soul looked about as if something worthy enough might have been spared the wreck, but all that was left was the bare bones of a gutted house and livelihood. He ran a thick hand through his thin and balding hair, before shrugging. "I don't know. Take whatever you want!"

"I'll just take a look around then to see if anything catches my fancy." Rumpel chortled; his impish grin spread wide across his face as he flourished his wiry fingers to the debris and still smoldering mess.

Lithe and wiry the beast carefully skipped about the wreckage peering here and there for anything that he might like to pick out and take back for his collection. Of course if he didn't find anything, the poor man with a family of eight would just have to pick a new career of begging.

He wasn't very confident he'd find anything in the charred skeleton of the business until glints from green glass caught his ebony eyes. In moments he was kneeling to a spot where the flames and destruction had been the lightest and therefore sparing one bottle of sprits.

It was very old, Rumpel could tell, even with out the dirt and ash covering it. Probably some treat or heirloom of wine meant for the vintner himself or a very wealthy customer. His scaled hand quickly dusted it off to see letters on a faded brown label that wrapped around the bottle. The words were written in the old tongue, meaning this particular bottle had been around for quite some time.

It was made in a good year, and wine like this was known to be extremely prized. He wasn't much of a drinker, but tea could get a trifle dull at times calling for something a bit more strong. Not that he could get drunk, but some times he did enjoy the vibrant taste of spirits. And who knew, Belle might have a taste for wine.

"I'll take this, and your shop will be repaired." Rumpel stated as he lifted the bottle up to the vintner.

The mans sweat caked brow furrowed as he squinted at the bottle, but he nodded all too eagerly. "Of course."

"A deal it is then." The Dark One nodded in accordance.

Hefting the bottle in his grip he waved a hand across the debris and watched it retake shape and form. It seemed for a few moments time moved back ward in the vicinty of the vintners shop as bottles and barrels came back together and wine appeared to fill inside on its own. As the wine maker watched in glorious amazement, Rumpel casually strolled down the down with his prize in hand.

Uncorking it with his jagged teeth, he took an appreciate whiff of the spirits before taking a precautious sip. The liquid splashed over his tongue and hit the back of his throat with just a slight burn as it washed down. It was good, better than he had expected with an exotic flavor that burst in his mouth and made him grin.

He chuckled once to himself as he took a much larger sip as he strolled down the forest path at a leisurely pace back to the Dark Castle.

If only he had known who had made the brew then he would not have been so careless in imbibing it!

**~8~8~**

_A/N: So yes this was a Regina heavy chapter, but with good reason I promise!_


	13. Wine and Tears

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! This chapter leans heavily on the 'T' rating._

**~8~8~**

The spiced wine was truly magnificent, Rumpel thought to himself as he staggered up the rough hewn stone steps that led to the main doors of the Dark Castle. His usual thin impish grin lay smeared widely across his face stupidly as he fumbled for the iron knocker to the door.

He had started the day bright and early as usual with no thought of staying out for more than a few hours before skulking back home to be with his Belle and perhpas work on a few potions. That was until he had gotten his claws on the precious concoction of spirits, whatever it was.

Instead he had spent all day out, going wherever his wine addled mind deemed him to wander, causing hilarious chaos in his wake and leaving villagers screaming in terror as they saw him approach.

Livestock had been turned into pumpkins, a few unlucky passerby's into common critters, and one bird into a fish that was still flopping and gasping in a tree somewhere. And now it was the dead of night with the moon high above, nestled in the lush velvet dark of the heavens and staring down at him almost accusingly for his actions. The air was cold with frost beginning to layer upon the hard earth, but the fiery liquid kept the chill at bay from the Dark One so that it was only mildly aware of the tingling sensation of freeze that prickled against his scaly flesh.

After uselessly fumbling with the heavy iron ring, Rumpel plopped down upon the stone for a moment to catch his breath. Vapors of milky white steamed out between his wine tinted lips as he held the teal bottle to his eye to gaze upon the world through its greenish haze. The reflection of the lunar orb refracted in its caught prisms, sending tiny slants of light in every direction and turning the pale illuminant world of night into a marsh green hue.

The fiend knew very well that he was drunk, even though it had been centuries since last he had felt the effects of spirits. Still, he remembered the feeling of giddy light headedness, and the devil may care apathy along with the numb sensation and poor judgment that went along with swigging far too much ale. It had been a long time indeed, but a part of the feeling he missed; it made him feel…mortal.

He should have been alarmed that he found himself in this deplorable condition of lower inhibitions, but ironically he was far too drunk to care in the least. The irony was not lost on Rumpel who chortled loudly at the thought, the sharp noise echoing about the mulled darkness, before taking another frighteningly large swallow of the spiced spirits.

A harsh wind whisked through the cool night making him shiver even though the wine warmed him. Tired of sitting upon his threshold like a common vagabond, he flourished his fingers lazily through the chill air and found himself staggering in the main hall.

The fiend knew he shouldn't have used magic in his less than functioning state; he might have teleported himself into a wall or something even more dastardly, but so far he hadn't caused too much irreparable damage.

All was mostly dark in the main hall with nothing but the somber moon peeking out in sliver shafts of eerie white behind the shut drapes that allowed only a hint of any light in. With another twitch of his wrist the fireplace roared to luminescent brilliance, casting the room in odd mulled light that danced between the dark of shadow and glow of the moon.

Looking about in satisfaction the magical monster nodded once, modestly pleased with himself before taking another swig of the tantalizing brew.

"Belle!" The fiend yelled her name suddenly, slurred, before he could stop himself. He staggered a bit before correcting again on his feet, even though it felt akin to the world falling out from under him and into an eternal void. "Belle, come here now!" He echoed, this time a touch sharper as if annoyed she had not simply appeared into the room at his call.

The bottle echoed a faint rhythmic clinking noise as the magical monster rapped his dexterous fingers impatiently against the glass as he waited with a hair trigger temper for Belle to arrive.

He was tempted to bark out her name again until another light glowed softly from the hall coming nearer and nearer. Belle appeared a candle in one hand; her clothes looked as if she had hastily put her usual blue dress on and only one shoe, before racing down the darkened hall with a pathetically small candle to permeate the darkness. Her hair was fussed about in a way that made the Dark One grin amiably at her, and want to run his fingers through her brown tresses.

Belle rubbed her azure eyes and, stifled a gaping yawn as she slid into the dimly lit main hall with the ease of any ghost. "Rum it's one in the morning." The beauty stated as she sought to blink back the blurriness that spotted her eyes. Why in the world was he calling her name like the castle was being besieged by a fire breathing dragon? Her lovely features immediately marbled into concern as she took a step towards him in alarm, her heart leaping. "Is something wrong?"

"No." The fiend replied simply with his usual devious chortle taking any worry out of the beauty immediately.

Belle stared at the magical monster in absolute silence for a few heartbeats before shaking her head slightly and stifling another jaw cracking yawn. "Then what did you call me for?"

Slurping another drought from the bottle the fiend raised the glass almost as a toast towards her. "I'm not completely certain yet. Mayhap I just wanted something pretty to look at."

His freely spoken words made Belle pause, her breath hitching involuntarily in her throat her sleepiness suddenly evaporating. This was not normal Rumpel, Belle knew. Her cobalt eyes scanned straight to the thick green bottle hanging loosely in his scaly grip. Wine? Just by the light emanating from the hearth she could see the liquid inside the teal glass was almost three fourths gone. She had never considered the devious Dark One as a heavy drinker, or any drinker at all for that matter.

"Are you… drunk?" She asked warily; a brow perching inquisitively at the slight of him wobbling on his feet with that idiotic grin plastered on his face. Was that even possible?

"Very perceptive, Belle of mine." Rumpel commented happily. "You've always been bright, which is one thing I lo-… like about you." Something inside him lurched as he thought he spied a pink blush tint against her cheeks at his words. He shook the feeling the look gave him off a moment later; it was probably just the red glow emanating from the fire place instead of a blush.

He hummed something under his breath as he padded over to his high backed arm chair that sat commandingly in front of the hearth like the throne of a king. With one good tug he turned it all the way around so that the back of the burgundy seat was facing the roaring blaze that crackled and popped with the conjured fire.

Heaving a loud sigh he sat down heavily in the plush armchair before nursing another sip of the brew he held covetously in his nimble talons. "Sing for me." He ordered mildly as he stared at her intently.

Sing at one in the morning to appeal his drunken senses? Belle snorted incredulously at the thought, a smile faintly coming to her lips. "Rum, I have work to do tomorrow, and it's late. I'm going back to bed. I'll bring you a blanket and you can sleep off your drunkenness here."

She smiled endearingly at him once before turning around, only to run smack dab into the master of the castle. His smile was replaced with a slightly sardonic smirk as he practically towered over her. He cocked his head slightly to the left as if looking at her in a different direction would change her mind. Who was she to think of disregarding his orders as if they were whims upon the wind?

"Now you see, Dearie, I wasn't asking." He explained, lowly, his voice moderately controlled for having so much alcohol running through his blood and fevering his thoughts.

Belle's brow furrowed slightly as her intelligent eyes measured him cautiously and with a rising trepidation that prickled her skin warning her of danger. Something was off, she could see; something far more than simple intoxication. A crimson glimmer flashed in his midnight eyes that was foreign to what she had so long seen in his ebony orbs. "You're not yourself; your command doesn't make any sense." The beauty reasoned calmly.

"But it is a command nonetheless." He countered, his thin gray lips dipping into a frown. He took a staggering step forward immediately making Belle involuntarily recoil backwards as he drew nearer.

Anger began to rile in him then as she sought safety from his advance. Was she trying to get away from him? Was she trying to escape from the beast? "I ask you to sing for me; one simple thing, which would be far more pleasing than what I could order you to do."

He took more steps that were tortuously slow like a predator patiently stalking its prey with measured strides. His onyx orbs were glazed over in drunkenness but locked into her sharp sapphire eyes as he continued. "I could order you clean the entire castle without stop, I could order you to the dungeons for the rest of your days; I could order you to shed every scrap of clothing you own and head towards my bedroom." He snapped; any humor suddenly dissipated into nothingness in the slowly rising heat of the room.

Belle gasped at his growled words, as she suddenly felt her trembling body back into the table of the main hall. He was only inches in front of her having successfully trapped the beauty where there was no way out. The fiend reeked of heavy spirits that seemed almost choking to Belle's senses, muddling her thoughts. Just by smelling the rankness of the wine permeating off of him she knew something wasn't right about it. It made her want to do things she had never imaged in her life.

He stood only inches in front of the beauty, with her having nowhere to run. His talons inched closer to her, brushing tremulously against the porcelain flesh of her cheek tenderly.

Rum chuckled as his claws curled against a lock of wayward hair that fell rebelliously about her face. He entangled his wiry fingers in the tendril of soft russet, seemingly entranced by the way the light from the fire danced upon it before turning his eyes back to her own.

"I could command you to bed with me, Belle. Anytime I wanted I could order this of you. You must have known this, you must have feared that one day I would become lonely and seek the pleasures of a woman. Would you have answered yes?" He asked huskily as he closed the few inches between then suddenly.

Belle's eyes searched his frantically, her heart hammering a hole through her chest at his words. What was he asking in his state of inebriation? She admittedly had feared of a day like that for a long time, but as the months had passed it had transformed into a vague wisp at the back of her mind. Swallowing tremulously, she put a hand to his chest trying to give them some room. "Rum, you're not-"

"I'll take that as a no." He interrupted suddenly, his tone as cold as the frost that layered the ground. In a instant his vice grip was around her wrist, the other tight about her upper arm. "You would not obey that command even if I ordered it!" He snarled in a slur.

Panic gripped the beauty in its snapping jaws as his hands grabbed her. Her breath came out hallow, fear setting root as she attempted to struggle away from his glossed hungry gaze that looked her over like a starving wolf did its prey. "Let me go!" She demanded attempting to sound brave and fearless in face of his words.

"Afraid not, Dearie." He replied cruelly, as he leaned forward to push her flat on the table.

She felt his grip tighten against her, his force moving her to were she did not want to be. It couldn't be happening; this was not the man she had toiled for for months on end. This was not the Rumpel she had danced with or watched the lightening bug, this was a shadow of himself; a skewed mirror.

"No!" She screamed up at him, her body struggling vainly against his iron grip. "I don't know what taken root in you but fight it!" She echoed again, unable to fight the knot forming at her throat or the heat of tears that welled against her eyes. Despite her struggling he had magically induced strength and she did not; it was akin to trying to break through newly forged chains. "Rum…" She choked desperately hoping to find the real on that she had known.

Rumpel blinked rapidly as his name was uttered so desperately from her lips. He felt the odd drunken veil that covered him lift slightly so that for a moment he was clear to look at what he had been about to do. He released his grip, staring at her almost in numb shock, simply blinking.

In another moment it vanished but that was more than enough time for Belle to act. A heartbeat passed before she realized his grip had loosened allowing her to slip free. Struggling against him she managed to maneuver her way from him before racing away into the obscure safety of the Dark Castle. She could only pray that there was a chance he was so drunk he couldn't pursue her.

Rumpel turned on his heel to watch her flee, but didn't pursue, as if some inner being held him back. "Come back here!" He screamed pathetically, but his feet refused to move. Angrily, he breathed a curse and heaved the nearly drained bottle of wine in her direction.

Belle scrambled like a jack rabbit to the exit that led down the multitude of dark corridors, just barely dodging the launched bottle as she turned a corner to disappear into the unforgiving darkness of the citadel. Where she was headed it didn't matter, only that she could be safely away from him.

The bottle made a thunderous crash as it hit the swinging door. The glass exploded into thousands of glimmering shards that twinkled in the hearth glow as the last dregs of sweet wine mingled in the shaded firelight. The once delicious brew dribbled down to the floor almost the color of freshly spilled blood.

The magical fiend let out a gigantic gasp as the bottle broke asunder. He immediately felt the better part of the drunkenness alleviate from him sending shivers through out his body.

He cast a quick horrific glance to the wet glass pricked door, his eyes widening in terror. He leaned against the table for support as his thought reeled in his mind. What had he been just about to…? "Belle." He whispered her name pleadingly in a ragged breath before darkness pooled about his vision and he collapsed on the floor in a semi-drunken heap.

~8~8~

Two full weeks went by without Belle seeing hide nor hair of Rumpelstiltskin. At first it had been a blessing for she had been tense just hearing a floor board creak or something drop on the floor, her mind wandering to what could have happened.

The morning after everything had occurred, she'd been ready to slip away from the Dark Castle at the first opportunity; promises be damned! But she stopped herself, or something inside her always halted her from stepping out the castle. To be sure she felt angry, hurt, betrayed, frightened, but she couldn't forget the stony out- of -it drunken gaze he had stared at her so intently with. Whatever she had seen flecking in his ebony eyes was not him, and if she was ever going to leave she needed an explanation first before she broke her bargain or gave up on him.

Inside she tried to reason against such actions, but just the thought of him halting himself before he did anything gave her hope that it hadn't been only wine that had taken hold of his tactile reason.

So everyday she'd awaken and start normally, only that there was no Dark One plying at his wheel or sitting in the main hall waiting for his meals. It wasn't that she didn't mind the space after what he had been about to do; some nights she still woke shaken from her experience, her hands trying to push an invisible specter away. But she knew it was not just the wine that had influenced him so.

No, there had to be something else, magical probably, Belle had suspected, and wanted it proven. But it was hard to get answers from anyone who seemed more ghost than flesh and blood. Everyday she'd leave a meal out upon the main hall table where something very terrible could have happened and low and behold it'd be eaten. It had gotten to the point where she forwent the chamber all together to simply leave the meals at the top step that led to his apothecary.

He couldn't just hide from her for the rest of eternity, Belle thought fitfully as she placed the steaming tray on its precarious perch of the stone step. She had a nagging feeling he was still going to try and that could not happen. She wanted answers, and hiding from her wasn't going to fix what had happened.

If he wasn't going to start mending the gaping hole in their bridge that he had so recklessly torn asunder then she was just going to have to do it herself.

~8~8~

Rumpel creaked open the apothecary door as he usually did when he heard Belle's footsteps die away. It had been three weeks and he had shrunk back at every opportunity to come down and face her. What could he possibly say? He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but he felt that even that was not a worthy apology. He had hurt her, and he hated himself for that.

He had awoken the next morning after the fiasco with horror in his heart as the nights memories swirling came back to him. He remembered flashes of angers, her body forcefully pressed against his, her words strong but afraid and the trembling of her flesh as she tried fighting him back. How could he have attempted anything like that against Belle, his wonderful Belle?

He had stepped over to where the remains of the bottle lay and had handled the wet glass still trying to make sense of it all. How could he have ever even thought of doing something so vile to someone so lovely? The thought ripped through him a demon tearing his insides. What sort of apology could he give for such actions.

Right now avoiding her along with the no doubt horror shimmering in her eyes seemed the best option until he could figure out a decent way to apologize. Or perhaps he was just being cowardly, either way he couldn't chalk up the courage to face her directly.

Kneeling down he hastily grabbed the warm tray to pull inside and devour the contents that lay upon the gilded silver, only to have a voice stop him cold. "I need to know what happened." Belle stated firmly.

The fiends eyes immediately fell towards the shadows where her voice had hailed as he left the food untouched. Clever woman, making him think she had left. He could have simply ignored her words and slipped back inside like any true beast did in its lair, but she didn't deserve that. She desired an explanation; was he so cruel as to refuse?

"Belle, I-." He began pathetically but stopped short, clearing his throat awkwardly as he still wondered what in the world he could say for his drunken actions. There was nothing to say, he knew, but he had to try _something_.

"I want answers, if you can give them." She pressed on softly, taking a few steps towards him.

It took all of the fiend's strength not to back away from her as she had did long night ago that still haunted him. She shouldn't be here talking so calmly, she should be on her way home after what he had done. He had certainly given her enough time to leave, and he wouldn't have pursued her, not after what he had done.

The magical monster nodded once, somberly, before moving to allow her access into his apothecary. "I have figured a few things out." He admitted lowly, his head down refusing to meet his gaze with her own. He was ashamed, more than ashamed actually; he felt dishonored if he still possessed such a thing as honor. If he could say he was sorry for an eternity it still wouldn't be enough.

Closing the door behind him, the fiend took care to give them extra space almost as if there was an invisible buffer between them as he skittered around the lab. On the work table, Belle could see the remnants of the dreaded alcohol pooled in a few vials while the shards of broken glass had been piled up beside them.

"Do you know what was in the wine?" The beauty asked as she bent down a bit to peer into the beaker that held the damning spirits. Her azure eyes searched the burgundy liquid keenly as if the answer would reveal itself. What sort of powerful magic could make the devious Rumpelstiltskin act so?

Rumpel chuckled slightly, but bit it back just in time hiding it with a quick cough. "Fermented grapes. The wine is perfectly normal, I mean from where it comes from it's perfectly normal." He revealed as he tapped his finger against the vial.

Oh he hadn't been so oblivious not to check for any traps or magic in the wine when he first had obtained it. There were simply far too many people in the world that wanted to see poison race through his blood and watch him strain and die upon the ground. To dance upon his grave and celebrate when he was no more than worm food. Whoever had set him up knew he was far to clever to actually think he wouldn't check the wine.

Belle's brow furrowed in confusion as she cast a quick glance to the devious Dark One, then back to the wine. "I don't understand, didn't the wine make you act like…" She couldn't finish, her words dribbling off to a halt that he was more grateful for.

"The wine did little, although it admittedly lowered my inhibitions. It is the bottle that is the true culprit." He continued, looking as abashed as any man or beast could. Picking up a pair of tweezers he delicately snatched up one of the glimmering green shards and put it to the light.

Squinting Belle gazed at the tiny prick of bottle shard to see that it was almost watery in nature when held up to the light of day.

"This isn't ordinary glass, it only comes from one place and is very hard to obtain." The fiend commented dryly. "This is glass from Wonderland. Looking Glass if you will. It does crazy things to a person as does the wine. Put them together and you have major trouble."

"So you're telling me this bottle came from a place where such ordinary objects can have such a nasty affect?" Belle asked as the fiend put the glass back in its place.

Rumpel couldn't help but bark out a strange mirthless laugh at her words. "Believe me, you have no idea what things in that place can do to a person."

"And you couldn't detect magic from the bottle or the wine?" She inquired, not accusingly just interested, as she turned to fully face him.

"It's not magical; it's just how things are in Wonderland which is why I couldn't detect it. When I broke it however it released it strange grip on me." He explained trying to avoid her intent gaze. "I mean this is by far no excuse for my actions, but I hope it makes some things…clearer."

Belle, however would have none of it, she followed his gaze expertly not wanting him revert back to his hiding stage. She had been scared, shaken, angry, at what he had done, but the last thing they needed was to hide away from one another like it had never happened.

"Who do you think would go through all this trouble to do this?" She asked him quietly as if suddenly just wondering how many enemies he had strewn about the known world.

He shook his head slightly, a fierce snarl coming to his face. "I don't know, but when I find out, they will pay."

Because of some set up he had almost irrevocably hurt Belle and whoever was responsible was going to feel pain for a very long time when they faced his wrath. But even after the culprit was rooted out it would still never take away the deep pit of guilt that wallowed inside him.

His sneer diminished back into sorrowful shame as he stared at her. Her bright blue eyes still held fear of him, something that he hadn't seen in a very long time.

"I'm sorry." He finally managed to say, his tone a mix of unknowns. "I was a stupid brutish pig, and I swear that will never happen again." In his head he had sworn off any and all types of alcohol for the rest of his days. It would always remind him what he had almost done. "I will not ask your forgiveness for I do not believe I deserve such. The only thing I want you to know is that that was not me who you saw last night."

Would it truly be that easy, Rumpel thought with suffering incredulity. Surely she would slap him or sneer in disgust at him or tell him there was no coming back from such things. He deserved her to tell him to never talk to her again, which he, at the moment, might actually agree to. She might actually say anything and he would have caved, anything to just show how sorry he was.

Surprisingly, he felt a gentle hand brush against his arm, her soft touch sending shivers racing through his body. It was a tremulous untrustworthy touch, but still one he didn't expect. He dare meet his eyes with hers to see what sparkled in them. Hate, loathing, bitterness that would fester?

She looked at him softly; no judgment, no ridicule which he rightly of all people deserved and now even more so, but it wasn't there. For one moment he was sure he didn't breath waiting for her to cast her judgment until a small smile bloomed upon her lips. "Let's go down to the main hall. Our tea is getting cold." Belle said finally.

They couldn't pick up where they had left off, but it was a start back to a tremulous…whatever they had.


	14. Dreams

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. Much love to everyone. One note, what is in italics is Rumpel in his dreams.**

**~8~8~**

_Rumpelstiltskin stood silent and ponderous upon the threshold of an old hovel; his eyes narrowed as he peered inside. A flaring wind hissed and scuffed particles of dust and pebbles inside to gather in the shaded corners testifying to years of abandonment. _

_The ancient warped dwelling looked akin to a sun bleached skull with wide gaping eyes and yawning skewed mouth. The place was old and wood warped, yet so very familiar. It wasn't very large, and had only one room and a rickety upstairs used for storing important goods. _

_Its inside was dim and dark, yet cool and had the heavy musk rich scent of dirt and wood that wafted about in the blackness almost like its own layered presence that loitered thickly in the air. The fiend knew the place well for he had once wretchedly dwelled there and termed the place home. _

_His brow furrowed in confusion as he took a few tremulous steps inside the old inhabitation as he wondered how he had gotten to such a place and how it could still be standing given the sands of time that had come and gone in his eternalness of being the Dark One. _

_It had once been his home, once upon a very long time; a ragged shack that had been abandoned that he and his son had managed to make their home with out protest from others. __Everything looked the same from the pitiful spattering of old straw scattered upon the dirt floor, the pit dug in the center for fires on chilled nights, still covered in ash, and two heaps of rags that made do for bedding and blankets lying nearby. _

_His ebony eyes scanned the room intently, his marbled gaze piercing through the shadowed blackness that festered in the corners and lurked on the edge of his sharp vision. There was half a sack of wool laying in a dark corner propped up against his wooden wheel that now transformed worthless straw into stands of glimmering golden thread, and in another his knobby crutch that leaned against the wood and mud wall. _

_The fiend padded only a few steps in the small thatch roofed home towards the long forgotten staff that had helped him when he was a pathetic cripple hobbling about half maimed and either despised for his cowardice or pitied for his lot in life. _

_His hand stretched out to run his fingers against the coarse grain of the oaken staff, only he stopped himself to look upon true hand; not black, razor sharp talons that he had so long known. Tanned, calloused, dirt stained flesh met his eye instead of nimble claws that bristled with dark magic. They looked strange though as he still looked through the onyx orbs of the Dark One. It almost seemed like they belonged to a different person. _

_He moved his hand back and forth slowly in silent wonderment wiggling his human fingers like it was some sort of illusion until he heard merry laughter. Laughter that made his heart turn to water and his head jerk up immediately. _

"_Bae." He whispered in a surprised, desperate croak. He would have known the giggle anywhere. Even after centuries of living nothing could overshadow the peals of his son's pleasant laughter._

_Almost as if by magic his sons head popped through the thin piece of canvas that had served as their door. He looked the same as the last time the Dark One had seen him; bright eyed, youthful, his shaggy dirty brown hair almost in a bowl shape that constantly fell across his jasper eyes. _

_Rumpel stood there in shock, absorbing the face of his son like he would never see it again, but he could never forget what Bae looked like. _

_The boy smiled at him like nothing had happened; like his father hadn't abandoned his promise and chose power over his boy. "What's taking you so long, Papa? We're ready to go. Remember we made a deal that if I could take all the cloth to town we could go for a walk in the forest before it got dark." Bae reminded him cheerfully, his smile wide upon his face. _

_Swallowing what felt like a boulder lodged in his throat, the Dark One nodded slowly, his eyes moist, only offering a faint half smile. "I-I'll be along, Bae." Rum promised hoarsely. _

_He still couldn't believe it, his son there with him; smiling and laughing and happy. A part of him wanted to run up and hug his son till he could no longer hold him in his grip, but he was afraid of what might happen if he moved to ruin the moment. _"_Son." Rumpel stopped the boy before he could duck out again. The boy paused and looked expectantly at his father with a love that the Dark One was very certain he did not deserve. "I love you son, you know that."_

_Bae laughed gaily and nodded his hair going in all directions. "I know, Papa, you say it everyday." _

_With that the boy slipped out, his laughter still echoing faintly about the darkened hovel like a ghost's wail. Rum stood there only a moment more before grabbing his old crutch with his human hands; a smile coming to his face as he hefted the staff and strode out of the dwelling happy, truly happy. _

_The world outside the shack was bright and clear, with puffy snow white clouds meandering about the azure sky to cast the whole earth in a tranquil light of near dusk. As the magical fiend exited the pathetic hovel he spied his son playing tag with a girl only a couple years younger than he. _

_She was a lovely little girl, with flouncing maple curls that were almost amber in hue against the softly glowing rays of setting sun. Her bright black eyes were akin to two solid chucks of coal that twinkled as she laughed and futilely chased Bae; her small hand reaching out to grab him. The boy was so much faster than she, but constantly slowed to let her win the game of tag; yelling encouragement to her along the cavorting game of chase._

_They both ran bare foot and dirty almost oblivious to how deplorably scruffy they looked, but they appeared happy enough running and dashing like rabbits at play upon the dusty barren earth that held a stark contrasts to the thick verdant glades of forest that surrounded them. _

"_Children have so much energy for such tiny things." A soft, amused voice stated from behind._

_The Dark One went rigid at the soothing tone, the hair prickling on his flesh. He turned slightly askance to look at the woman who was now standing beside him even though he knew who it was before he even turned. _

_Belle, lovely, beautiful Belle. Her russet curls tumbled down her shoulders, a soft smile marbled upon her beautiful features. She wore the gown he had first seen her in. The gold flowing dress that trailed against the dirt and nearly sleeveless. _

_It had been a garment he had had to replace for he didn't think his heart could bear fluttering like some startled animal every time she entered into a room wearing it._

_Immediately the fiend reverted to what had been so long engrained in him when he was nothing more than a scavenging peasant. He ducked and bowed his head respectfully as was normal when anyone of noble or higher descent than a simple peasant came his way or walked by. __Here he was still a poor weaver just one step away from destitution and being a wretched beggar with his son, and she still a princess of a merchant king who wanted for nothing. She was garbed in finery of the best silks and linen while he dressed in a filthy brown tunic. _

"_Rum, why are you bowing to me?" She laughed pleasantly, sending a thrill racing down his spine and his throat tighten. Her tender, soft hand grabbed his calloused dirty one and squeezed lovingly making his heart want to stop in mid beat. _

_She sighed once in contentment and turned back to face the playing little ones who laughed and shrieked in their childish way. "Bae simply adores Sarriah; they get along so well. He was so happy when he finally got a sibling. He is a good brother; and watches over her like a hawk."_

_Brother? Rumpel's ebony eyes widened as he put the connection together with startling alacrity. Her mother's fair hair, her fathers midnight black eyes. It was a revelation he cursed that he did not see before. _

_Their daughter playing with his son, Belle by his side and he no longer cursed with being the Dark One. Placing a trembling hand against her stomach he couldn't imagine that a woman so wonderful could think of willingly wanting a child with him. To share a ragged hovel instead of a palace, to be with him when she deserved so much better. It was the fanciful notions bards tales were conjured of! _

_And yet, her hand fell atop his while her other moved to touch his rough stubble grown cheek. _

_She didn't care about castles, or riches, or prestige. She cared about him and their family and that was all that mattered. Her face began to near his, her full soft lips inching closer to his own. He had the sudden urge to laugh in utterly blissful joy as he leaned towards her to hungrily meet his lips to hers, only to see the world around him grow fainter._

"_Not now." He pleaded desperately as the bucolic scene began to fade to blinding white. Belle's warm hand grew cold against his flesh until it transformed into wisps of chilled wind. The people about him grew ethereal, their voices faint and muffled as if caught in a thick fog. The earth beneath him began to roil and quake as a portal appeared in the dusty earth._

_He watched in horror at the blue-green colors of the magical opening widened like some sightless evil eye that peered at him in malicious glee as it sucked in the wonderful moments and what-ifs, and his son who called his name pleading with him to go to where the curse had no effect on him. _

"_I'm coming, Bae!" The fiend shrieked; falling hard to his knees. The magical monster clutched and grabbed at the dust and sparse patches of grass as if he could follow or dig his way to the ethereal specter of his son. Dust whisked about his face, stinging his eyes as he dug and grabbed at the portal franticly to no avail. "Please don't leave, son." He whispered disparagingly. His futile actions staggered to a halt as he knelt numbly looking at the dusty patch of earth, with out any way to follow his boy._

_From behind he suddenly heard a scream and turned about to his horror to see the pain was not at an end. He found himself back in the main hall of the foreboding Dark Castle on that terrible night he wished with all his might he could forget. He could only stare frozen in place as he saw himself grabbing his Belle and forcefully laying her against the table._

_Belle was struggling against him but this time no veil lifted from his vision, her cries and whimpers for mercy were lost upon drunken ears as he did not stop from doing the unthinkable to her. _

"_Get away from her!" Rumpel snarled fiercely at the mirror of himself. He held out his hand trying to beckon magic to his call only to remember it was not a talon he saw, but mere mortal flesh and blood that was weak and aging. _

_The monstrous image of himself, only turned its head slightly to look at him, never stopping his actions against the helpless Belle who clawed vainly against his black vest. It flashed Rumpel a nasty 'yeah right' look then continued with it's vile dead heedless of her screeching echoing wails that resounded through out his head._

_The man that was the Rumpel roared out a cry of blistering anger as Belle's cries assailed his ears and pierced his heart deeper than any arrow could. Hefting his ancient crutch like a club he ran towards the monster that hovered over Belle. __His eyes burned bright with hate against himself as he charged in a jaunting run ready to bring the staff down upon the beasts head. "You will not hurt her!" He snarled determinedly at the specter of himself as he neared to smashing the monsters head to pulp. _

_As he was finally in hitting range, an intense pain rattled through him, twisting inside his knee. His leg felt on fire as the muscle and sinew twisted and the bone warped and cracked under him. _

_A sharp agonizing cry erupted from his lips as he went half tumbling half soaring into the image of himself ravishing Belle. The image shattered and splintered to green shards of bottle glass, and suddenly he felt himself falling through a dark void, Belle screams still echoing around him… _

Rumpelstiltskin awoke sucking in huge amounts of air, his chest bellowed rapidly, eyes wide and wild as sweat slicked against his bare scaly flesh and dripped out the ends of his hair.

His ears pricked to the crackling sound of bacon popping and the savory and sweet scents of breakfast and tea that permeated the castle that slightly calmed his frayed nerves. He gulped hard and dabbed his dry lips with an even dryer tongue as he fell back to the bed almost in exhaustion even though his sleep had been deep and undisrupted.

Rumpelstiltskin did not dream often, but when he did it was always about Baelfire; the son he had lost, no, let go. Belle and the daughter, Sarriah, however were two new additions to the rarely conjured scenes in his sleep.

A part of him was scolding himself profusely at the part of him that dreamed of Belle as his mate. He shouldn't be having dreams of Belle of that nature, not when he could have done something horrible to her those weeks ago. Monsters should not have dreams about maidens fair and sharing their lives with children and being happy and content.

Still, it had been a lovely dream until it ended like they always did; losing everything that mattered and hurting those he held dear. Bae, Belle, and the daughter, that he didn't know, all gone away as a constant remainder of his cowardice and shame.

A determined growl rumbled from his throat as he flung the thick cover off his sweat stained body and made ready to present himself downstairs. One day he would have Bae again, and they would be happy. He didn't need a dream to tell him that or hang it over him like a farmer puts a carrot in front of a donkey to make it move. Dreams were only just that- dreams, they meant nothing and were more annoying the revelatory.

A shiver overcame his lanky form at the memories of the nights dream swooped back inside his head. They were only dreams, but still they could be so vivid at times that it was hard to brush away the feeling of despair and anger that he held in them.

Only the sudden thought of Belle waiting for him quelled his nerves mildly as he fumbled towards the wash room to rid himself of the nights energetic dreaming.

~8~8~

"I swear I could summon you from halfway across the realms if I put a plate of bacon by a window!" Belle joked as she put the breakfast dishes on the main hall table right as the master of the castle appeared from a side door.

They were both dressed in thick long sleeved clothes being that it was getting colder everyday and winter was fast approaching with its bitter bite. Soon the thick drab drapes would have to be drawn again and the fires stoked in the never ending struggle to keep the draft and cold that swirled through the castle and permeated the gray stone at bay.

The fiend offered her an amused glance before plucking up a strip of crispy bacon and giving in a cursory taste. "Oh come now there has to be a plethora of better alternatives than trying to lure me back home with a stack of meat, Dearie."

"But none quite so effective." She countered good naturedly and gave him a cheeky wink.

The Dark One only smiled at her words, before pulling out her chair for her. He was always the gentlemen, even though he could be rather beastly at times.

Belle flashed him another warm smile as he sat down opposite of her and poured himself a spot of tea. She put her elbows on the table, her hand going under her chin to stare at him in curiosity. They had long forgone the habit of being strictly neutral and uptight about one another. Only clinging to polite conversation hadn't lasted long between them, it was more intimate now that it had ever been. "So what's on the agenda for today?" The beauty inquired curiously as he nibbled on an edge of toast.

He chuckled briefly at her eager curiosity, though the trite bit of amusement died as quickly as it came. "Same as always, Dearie: forge a few deals and hunt down the person with a death wish who planted that bottle."

To the fiends endless frustration he had run into dead end after dead end when searching for the culprit who had the power to bring things from the dreadful Wonderland to their world. But he was determined to punish the soul who had so foolishly thought to catch him or harm him and had in doing so made him unwittingly harm his Belle.

The memories of last night's vivid dreaming came slithering back to coil about his mind at the thought of the poisonous wine. Flashes of her screaming as the mirroring part of him did the foul deed spattered through his mind making him want to disappear from her presence.

Yes, whoever tried to plot against him would pay very, very dearly.

"Well since _that's _out of the way." Belle stated mildly wanting to get over the subject of the no doubt horrid end some poor soul was to meet at her master's hand, she almost shyly stirred a cup of her own warm brew biting her bottom lips slightly. "I'd like to ask you something."

He cocked an eyebrow intriguingly at her words, the horrors of the night momentarily cast aside. His thin lips twitching upwards just slightly hinting at a grin. Belle rarely asked for anything if nothing at all. "Oh? Well there's no harm in asking." He commented before putting his usual chipped cup to his lips.

"When is your birthday?" She inquired warily as if measuring the words before she deemed them to leave her lips.

The fiend fought hard not to choke upon a mouthful of hot tea at her question. He sputtered and gasped trying to clear the liquid out of his throat all the while laughing hoarsely. "My…my birthday?" He hacked and coughed through his laughter shaking his head. "Of all the things to ask of me, you chose to investigate about my date of birth."

Casting him an ostentatious glance that mingled with alarm at his sudden coughing the beauty nodded determinedly. "Yes, I have almost lived here an entire year and I've been thinking about it for a while. Don't you celebrate the day you were born?"

"Hardly." The fiend replied after clearing his throat. A low chuckled still emanated from his throat as he stabbed a piece of fluffy egg with his fork. He chewed the yellow morsel furtively as he mulled over her question.

In all honesty he had forgotten the day. It had been centuries upon centuries since he had recalled the day of his birth, and some times when all he could think about was his son and how he betrayed his trust he wished he'd never been born and he would have never been dubbed the Dark One.

"I don't recall the date, it's been very literally ages, Belle." He replied finally as he swiped his lips clean.

The beauty pursed her lips slightly a smirk blooming upon her face. "Well I will simply have to come to a date myself then."

"Oh and what will you do? Build a towering cake and jump out of it?" He snorted derisively, trying to thwart Belle's train of thought. He knew rather clearly, however, that was as likely as him spontaneously bursting into flame.

"Only in your dreams, Rum." She replied with laugh as she began to gather the plates and tea tray to be cleaned.

The fiend smiled widely at her, but did not refute her words. If only she knew how true her carelessly spoken statement had been.


	15. Hero

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hugs to all! Also, sorry for slow chapter updates been a little busy..._

**~8~8~**

For Jefferson life was fantastic or should have been at least. The handsome haberdasher had it all; gold, jewels, silks, the finest things money or magic could obtain. His unique skills with a moth eaten, faded, tackily decorated top hat had made him subtly sought after by some of the most devious persons in all the known realms.

He was spoken of only in the highest of places whispered about from the lips of the rich and mighty who needed something a little…special to rid them of problems or get jobs done. Witches, sorcerers, cultists, and even underhanded kings had sought out the hatter with his most dangerous profession of traversing into a different world and taking useful everyday items that might be ordinary in this realm, but extraordinary in Wonderland.

Hoards of chests bursting with the finest riches literally sat at his fingertips, but still he wasn't all happy. Rubies and diamonds, perfumes and glistening golden coins could never compare or replace his darling love. It could never heal his wife's sickness or mend her pain or bring her back from the realm of death leaving him alone to care for his darling baby daughter.

In fact the only thing he truly did treasure was his little girl and no amount of gold or jewels or coins would have ever changed that. The hatter smiled warmly as he looked down upon the sleeping infant tucked away securely in her mahogany crib. She was buoyed upon the softest lamb's wool ever woven and felt almost like a cloud he ventured might feel.

Her blonde wispy hair fell about her face and her tiny fist was coated in saliva as she sucked upon it contentedly lost in her peaceful baby dreams. She was a precious gift that the hatter knew had been the only thing that had kept him from going mad when his wife had been so cruelly snatched from the world all too soon.

"Sleep soundly, little one; my Grace." Jefferson whispered with a smile to his daughter. His hand carefully rearranged the blanket over her gently, with only the most accurate lightest touch a skilled hat maker could possess. The child sniffed and yawned slightly, but soon settled straight back to sleep as if knowing her father watched out for her.

The haberdasher couldn't help but let a soft sigh escape his lips as he quietly padded out of his daughters gaily decorated nursery. A pang of mourning pummeled him in his chest as he thought of her mother and how much his little girl looked liked her. She would grow up to be almost a spitting image.

But still, he had to admit, he gave thanks everyday that he did not loose them both as could have been the very real case. It happened so often in hard births that a man might both lose his child and wife. Comforted only mildly by the thought the hatter traversed his expensive home to find his way to the kitchen for his normal 12 o'clock tea.

"Lovely home you have here." A frivolous impish voice stated in a maniacal giggle as Jefferson entered his kitchen. "A trifle tacky, but I think that's because of all the hats."

The haberdasher froze in place at the voice, even though he did not see the creature at first. Everybody in the known realms knew who the high pitched devilish voice belonged to; the one and only Rumpelstiltskin.

His skin dampened slick with sticky sweat as he turned slowly to where the voice had echoed hoping, praying, it was only a figment of his mind. Yet sure enough the Dark One was resting casually at his lavish table, his muddy boots propped up upon the wood, his hand folded against his stomach as he leaned back quite at ease.

The magical fiend grinned widely although there was always a hint of malice behind the smile or so the rumors had often been told.

Swallowing nervously, Jefferson attempted to mask his fear with a veil of nonchalant bravery. He forced himself to the warm kettle as he steadied his trembling hands to pour the tea. What could the Dark One want of him? It was told the magical monster only ever appeared when a deal was to be struck or someone had slighted him, and Jefferson knew he had no need to cut a deal.

"How can I help you?" The haberdasher asked tremulously, his voice on the very precipice of cracking hollowly in nervousness.

Rumpel shrugged carelessly; as he twiddled his talons to make a cup of tea of his own appear. Sipping it slowly, his eyes never leaving the nervous hatter, he smacked his lips exaggeratedly as if it was the best brew ever tasted. Not as good as Belle made it, but tasty nonetheless.

"I'm trying find out information on a certain item." He revealed at length, letting the hatter stew in his own fear and the dire thoughts that were no doubt racing through his mind like a frightened rabbit. Digging into his pocket the Dark One took produced one of the largest shards of teal bottle glass that had been formed when the wine bottle had shattered. "What can you tell me about this glass?" He asked slyly, handing it over to the hatter.

Narrowing his eyes, the haberdasher managed to palm the sharp shard as he held his cup; his finger coursing over the glossy smoothness. "Looking glass; extremely dangerous. Where did it come from?"

"Now you see that's one thing I was hoping you could answer for me." Rumpel replied; his thin grin still plastered upon his face making Jefferson want to shiver.

The hatter could only think of one person he had given glass to like this. It had been a bottle of wine spirited away from Wonderland with the Queen of Hearts men hot on his heels. It hadn't been easy to procure, but he had done it. Yet he knew rather clearly his employer would kill him if he revealed her name.

Shaking his head stubbornly, the hatter placed the sharp sliver of bottle down. "I'm sorry but I can't disclose the names of my clients. It's-" His words came to a sputtering stop as the devious Dark One moved like lightening incarnate.

The malicious fiend grabbed the hatter by the expensive silk kerchief that frilled out about his neck. He wasn't smiling anymore, but Jefferson was wishing that he was; maybe then he would seem like some angered demon besieging his home and desiring to flay his flesh from bone. "Listen to me you little leech. Nothing your 'client' threatened against you would be half as bad as what I will do if I don't get an answer." He replied in serene simplicity as if he wasn't choking the hatter senseless.

In his minds eye he could still see Belle being forced against the table, and hear her screams for him to stop. He wanted revenge on the person who sought to destroy him and in the process made him inadvertently hurt Belle. Someone, if not everyone involved was going to get hurt and if Jefferson wanted it to be him to start with, then Rumpel was more than happy with that arrangement.

Gasping for air, the haberdasher blubbered and struggled against the magical iron grip of the Dark One. He dropped his tea cup that fell with an ominous crash making tea slosh in all directions, as he held on for dear life and scratched helplessly at the vile sharpened talons against his throat blocking off his air as he struggled desperately to pry them away from his throat.

Words for mercy were about to tumble out of his mouth when he heard his little Grace begin to cry as if sensing the foul magic's that thrummed through the air like the thick pressing feel of a severe thunderstorm on its way.

Surprisingly the cry had an unexpected effect on the devious Dark One, whose eyes widened to hear the hearty healthy cry of a babe echo throughout the home. He fought not to wince and at the noise that brought such familiar memories of a young Bae who could cry for four hours straight when he had been a tiny babe.

"I'll tell you everything, but don't kill me; my Grace needs a father." Jefferson croaked pathetically his face turning a slight hue of blue that hinted mostly at his lips.

Even though he tried to fight it, something in Rumpel crunched a little when he heard the cries of the babe. He couldn't shake off the memory of Bae or the tiny daughter of his dream. He had already abandoned his son willingly, did he do something so cruel as to take this man away from his daughter?

Against all his other instincts the fiend slowly let Jefferson drop back to the floor and let him breath. "Start talking." The magical monster growled lowly as he settled to listen in.

~8~8~

It was late in the night when the infamous Dark One came upon the ominous grand castle that sat nestled upon black stalwart rocky cliffs that seemed to rise defiantly against the gladed landscape that sprawled beneath it. The sharp rocky mountain which the castle sat precariously upon wounded high into the air then tapered off to a sheer drop down to a tumultuous threatening sea. It was an impressive sight to say the least, making one wonder how the palace didn't tumble off into the frothing moon lit waters below.

The palace belonged to the woman who requested the bottle or so the hatter had said, and Rumpel was more than certain the feeble little haberdasher wouldn't dare lie to him. In the long run the fiend had seen it made since that she might be the potential one to try and attack him. Those who had dark magic in their veins were always trying to gain more power, even if that meant foolishly trying to take out the Dark One.

The only question was why after they had had such good deals going, and mischief that tore across the realms? Well, it wasn't as if they could have been trusted anyway, and Belle had been hurt in one of their little vies for dominion, meaning that the foolish witch would have to pay, dearly so.

Easily bypassing any barriers of magic or stone with a flourish of his wiry fingers, the fiend entered the darkened palace with uncanny ease. Not even covering up his presence the fiend tromped through the castle, transforming alarmed guardsmen into critters or vaporizing them into dust, till coming upon a darkened study.

In moments the whole palace would know he was there, but he enjoyed the knowledge, for it brought with it sheer terror at the words that Rumpelstiltskin was strolling throughout the citadel.

With a flick of the hand the Dark One made the doors of the study swing open casually as he strolled in humming pleasantly to himself in a quirky way that a mischievous child might do.

"Rumpelstiltskin, what brings you by here this time of night?" A sly creeping voice with just a slight growl asked; a faint undertone of amusement laced the words but it was so faint it would have gone almost unnoticed by anyone else. It was only a ruse he knew, to hide her surprise; a mechanism to veil the fact she was off put by his sudden appearance.

The Dark One shrugged though no devious cackle rumbled from his throat. "I was in the neighborhood; thought I'd come by for a visit…Maelifiecent."

The witches face was taut, almost all of her body seemed like thin pallid flesh pulled over a rack of rickety bones to create some sibilant figure of a woman. Ink black hair was done up in a modest bun that didn't seem to fit quite right on her person. Her fathomless charcoal eyes were many things, but human was by no means one of them. She held the grace of a haughty queen, filled with cold courtliness, but in the shadows of the blazing hearth, her dark figure revealed something far, far, bigger and powerful than one gaunt woman looking out the frosted windows of her palace.

She sifted the black laced shawl wrapped about her human body though never turned her eyes to look directly at Rumpel. "Well I suppose you can take yourself _out _of the neighborhood as well." She countered, her voice strict and trite hiding her fear.

"I could." Rum drawled unconcerned with the snap in the witch's voice. Prancing a few steps over to her, his grin was wide and caked with malicious intent. "But then I couldn't get revenge on you, now could I, Dearie?"

Maelifiecent's head swiveled to his direction in confusion but suddenly on alert; a spell came upon her lips, but it was far too late. With a flick of his hand, the fiend froze the witch in place, leaving her eyes the only moving part of her body.

It was obvious she was attempted to pry the spell a loose; he could almost feel her magic trying to unwind his, but Rumpel had no concern for her pathetic attempts. Her magic was child's play compared to his own.

"Revenge for what?" The witch hissed furiously to hide the plain scalding fear welling in the pit of her stomach.

The magical monster shook his head sagely, clucking his tongue at her as a mother might do a petulant child. "Now, now, Mae, don't play dumb with me. I have to admit it was rather clever, giving me a bottle from Wonderland hoping I would use magic and kill myself in the drunken interim, or your forces could move to finish me off. Very clever indeed."

The bottle, Maelifiecent knew exactly what he was referring to even though she didn't know how he could possibly know about it. It was a large glass bottle of wine she had paid a hefty sum for from the human, Jefferson to acquire, being that he had had to sneak in the Queen of Hearts palace to obtain it.

The liquor made people desire and do things they never would, it had been one plan to slip it in a certain princess's drink so she would be completely at a whim to prick her finger.

Her pale brow knit in genuine confusion as she let her useless fighting sputter off. "What are you talking about? I still have the bottle, I would never waste such a precious thing on trying to thwart a beast like you? You leave me alone well enough."

"You still have the bottle do you?" Rumpel asked in amused tones that held no mirth as he tapped his chin thoughtfully with his thumb. With a twitch of the hand he let the magic fall away from Maelifiecent allowing her to move. "Show me, and no tricks or I will rip you limb from limb." He stated with a pleasant smile.

The threat was not an idle one, the witch knew, but she had nothing to hide. Murmuring a quiet spell the wall to her study gave way to reveal a solitary gold inlaid chest hidden by magic. Stomping over to it, the sorceress flung it open only to gasp in surprise. The only thing that remained was the heavy indentation of a bottle that had rested on the red silk.

Gulping she turned around slowly, knowing she was in very hot water. The Dark One was just accusing her of trying to kill him, and she did not have any evidence to dispute it! "You have to believe me I had no bottle planted against you. I thought it was there, I swear! Some one has stolen it and set me up!"

"Likely story." Rumpel dead panned, the only thing remaining on his face a thin grin that looked almost watery, ready to fall away.

"Think about it, Rumpelstiltskin I have no need to attack you!" She protested desperately her eyes suddenly wild.

Rumpel shook his head furtively, his smile thin and disbelieving. "There is always a reason, Dearie. And now your plan has failed. You were far to careless not covering your tracks."

He raised his hand, now glazed over with the purple tint of his foul magic, the press of it thrumming through the air like a swarm of angry bees. Maelifiecent eyes went wide as she shrieked an inhuman noise echoing out her throat, almost like a beast's roar, as she braced herself to try and defend against the magic or stave off the pain.

And then nothing.

The sorceress realized she'd screwed her eyes shut in the face of the Dark One's wrath, and slowly pried one open. He stood a few feet from her, his arms crossed smugly across his red leather vest, a sly weasel grin marbled upon his scaly features.

Looking down at her hands, sending her magic out trying to feel what the Dark One had done she could sense nothing amiss with her body or magic. "What…what did you do to me?" She breathed hoarsely, sounding very afraid.

The fiend giggled in his impish way before turning away from the shaken Maelifiecent. "That's for me to know and you to find out." He paused for a moment to turn back to her, his eyes flashing black steel against the fire light. "And you'll just be _dying _to find out."

With that he offered her a low mocking bow before traipsing out of the castle, leaving a set-up and shaken Maelifiecent to contemplate her fate.

His revenge was now complete, now it was time to go back home to his Belle. Despite his utter cruelty he had just endowed upon the sorceress, his eyes and smile warmed for the briefest of instances as his thought rambled to Belle as they often did now when his less than pleasant actions came to an end. She should be happy he would be home early, and hopefully even happier than he had crushed the whelp that sought to be his undoing.

~8~8~

Belle sighed pleasantly as she finally got out of the wooden tub of warm water. The soap and bubbles sloshed over the side as she rose up like some elegant siren out of the sea. The steam still roiled out around in the washroom as the beauty stepped out of the tub. Living in the Dark One's palace had some advantages like water than could warm at a simple touch from the pump.

It wasn't very often she got to take a long luxurious bath, but Rumpel would be away for a night on business, leaving her to her own devices which in turn called for a long hot soak in the tub to scrub the dirt and grime away and warm her against the chill of the Dark Castle.

The beauty dog-eared the tome she had been reading before wrapping a warm towel around her body and stepping out into the hall. She shivered slightly at the harsh drafty air that assailed the hall, but her room wasn't far, and since she was the only one in the foreboding castle at present she saw no need to hurry along, but stroll meandering under the guttering torch light.

That's exactly what she did until Rumpelstiltskin appeared in the hall catching her still dripping wet with only a light towel to cover her body.

"Rum!" Belle cried out in alarm, clutching the towel about her tighter as if it would make her disappear. She hadn't expected anyone to come around the corner, and since he moved as silent as a shadow, she hadn't even had a hint of another presence. What on earth was he doing home so soon, and walking the halls of the servant's quarters which he rarely did?

The beauty, for all her intellect and wit, could not make her brain work correctly as it fluttered about as did her heart with him suddenly standing there and her only garb a piece of wet wool that clung fittingly to her form.

The fiend's heart caught in his throat at Belle's sudden appearance in the hall, wearing nothing but a towel. He slammed his eyes shut, turning his face only to hit the column that stood against the wall sending a shooting pain through his head. He fought the pain back with a snarl and a curse of how stupid he seemed coming in unannounced. The image of Belle still ran through his mind as he turned around away from her. "Belle, why are you naked!"

"I was taking a bath!" She replied strained, as she ducked into a small alcove to hide herself. She was pretty certain her cheeks were glowing brighter than the flittering torches that lit the hall after he had seen her so. Her hands trembled and her heart drummed at a tattoo she was sure was unhealthy. "What are you doing back so early!"

"I was coming to find you and tell you that I finally found out who the bottle belonged to." He countered, his eyes remaining closed, though his hand dabbed at the rising bump on his head. Now was probably not the time to bring that night up, circumstances being what they were now, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

A more than awkward silence permeated the dim aperture where they stood both unsure of a next step. Finally Belle cleared her throat tremulously. "Oh well, that's wonderful…"

"Indeed…" He replied blandly.

"So um, I still need to get to my room." She continued, the cold was beginning to creep back upon her even though her whole body felt like it was on fire.

Rumpel nodded rapidly his nervousness clearly flagrant and bristling. For one moment he looked completely unsure what to do with himself before speaking. "Ah right, I'll just go that way then." He pointed to the way he had came and stumbled out.

Belle fought to contain a smile as he staggered out to be away, her heart was doing back flips in her chest at the run in with the master of the Dark Castle. She had never seen the malicious fiend look so uncomfortable for all the months she had been there. It was very amusing, very sweet, and very…humanizing.

~8~8~

"How's that bump, Rum?" Belle asked tenderly as she strode into the main hall about half an hour later. Her still damp hair was tied behind her with a bit of sky blue lace and shimmered glossily against the crackling flames, putting an almost burgundy sheen to her russet tresses.

Even though it was late she hefted the normal silver gilded tray laden with the blue and white ceramic kettle and the two cups to match along with a few small rotund pots of cream and sugar.

She smiled at the magical man fondly, as she laid the tray on the table and began pouring the hot brew into the cups. The fiend grinned in reply, but Belle could still see the nervousness flashing in his eyes with the way he avoided her gaze almost shyly. If she didn't know better she would have thought him some timid man once upon a time.

Rising from his wheel he joined her at the table, taking the cup of tea as he usually did with only two sugars. "All healed." He assured her, giving the still tender spot a tap, but showing no hint of discomfort.

The two sat in silent for a few moments each savoring their tea and sipping it to avoid any the pits of awkward conversation after what had just accorded not an hour ago. Even though the…meeting was still in both their heads, Rumpel could tell Belle was eager to hear more of what had transpired. Such had always been her way, she loved hearing his tales of travel and his deals so long as they weren't to devious.

"You want to know what happened today?" He asked with a hint of amusement, a brow arching, but it was more of a statement than a question.

Placing her cup down, Belle nodded, her bright cobalt orbs almost glimmering with curiosity and excitement. "Of course! Did you fight anyone? Who planted the bottle? What where their motives?" She was always eager to listen to his tales of walking about the world and hear of his adventures

"Enough questions, Belle!" The fiend couldn't contain a laugh at her eagerness to find out. He raised his hands mockingly as if her words were physical questions she pelted at him causing the beauty to laugh as well.

"Sorry, I can get a little excited at times when my imagination runs away with me. Bad habit, I know." She replied after her wonderful laughter had spattered off.

"It's not bad at all." The magical monster retorted to swiftly. He coughed once at the hastily spoken words, having only wanted to think them instead of speak the words aloud. Both turned away almost embarrassedly as the returned to sipping their tea in silence.

Clearing her throat, the beauty dare look up to him again wanting to get the conversation sparked again. "So who did it?"

"No one to be overly concerned with." He stated nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Someone who thought they could get the better of me. Someone I thought wasn't a threat. I rectified the problem so there will be no more trouble from that foe."

He would never tell her it was a witch who was actually a dragon. No need to worry her about a fire-breathing monster assaulting the castle or some nonsense that the sorceress might do.

Belle sighed slightly in good natured annoyance, her shoulders slumping as she cocked her head slightly to the left. "That's it? No beginning, middle, or end; no journey? Thank heaven you don't write any stories, Rumpelstiltskin or they would be the shortest tales in existence! Did you fight the evil and banish it back into darkness? Slay the monster that sought to prowl upon you?"

Rumpel couldn't help but chuckle at her words as he added another lump of sugar to his warming brew. Who did she think he was? Some perilous warrior, a brave adventurer, an honorable knight? She spoke of him defeating evil and darkness and monsters; didn't she know he was all those devious things himself?

"Were you expecting me to tell you I became a shining knight in glistening silver, riding a brilliantly white steed to slay a fiendish conniving dragon?" He snorted once in derisive annoyance although that could have been the case minus the silver armor and knightly chivalrous garbage. "Where you expecting a hero, Dearie? Because if you were I believe you have me mistaken for another 'Dark One'. I am not a hero."

Belle became silent, slowly sipping the warmth of the tea. Of course he wouldn't see himself as a hero. After so many people termed him the exact opposite dubbing him monster and beast. Those where the things the knights and hero's of lore slew. But, the beauty knew, a hero could be found in even the most surprising of people. "Well not yet you're not." She replied tackfully. "A hero must always have a lady's favor." She explained gently, her tones sly.

The Dark One only watched her in silent bemusement as she tugged the blue ribbon that bound her chestnut mane behind her and pulled it free in one smooth flourish making her hair tumble down her shoulders. He continued his silent watching even as she quickly wrapped the azure ribbon upon his upper left arm before he could formulate any words to protest.

The blue ribbon was tied in a neat bow upon his upper arm, much like the knights who went to jousting tourneys wore. The favors of silk bands and slips of wool were given out by the noble women and lady loves meant to be worn as a badge of courage in real combat and at the tourneys.

Usually they were scarves or kerchiefs given from the lady as her favor for her champion and hero, but this, a simple strip of crulean fabric, seemed so much more personal.

"There." She stated in satisfaction as she fixed it in place just slightly. A wide smile drew upon his lovely lips, making the Dark One's heart tumble about his chest. "Now you are a hero. _My _hero."


	16. Winter

_A/N: Thanks all you lovely readers and reviewers!_

**~8~8~**

As everything must change with the sands of time, so did the season of mulled oranges and crimson that held testament to a crisp lovely fall. The once glorious menagerie of colorful vibrant trees soon turned into naked skeletons of their former illustriousness; bare of their colorful persons of leaves. Rich earth once so ready to bring about a ripe harvest was transformed into cold hard ground that produced nothing but ugly gray straggly weeds that clambered up out of the cold earth only to die into nothingness in the chill world.

Winter came in all its frigid glory sending a cold sweeping through the land like the harsh raspy breath of death itself.

Belle had never spent much time in the mountains, being that her father's kingdom had been a busy sea port where all the goods could be ferried in by ships from about all the known realms. Wonderfully warm weather even in winter months had always kept the lands in her father's realm mild and temperate nearly all year long. True bone chilling cold was a completely new experience to the former princess.

It was her first full winter upon the craggy ridgeline that housed the Dark Castle, and the beauty soon learned how cold the frosty season could actually be.

Belle awoke comfortably warm, nestled in the soft bed of her room in the servant's quarters. The beauty sighed, but did not open her eyes as she pulled the blanket tightly about her chin, trying to enjoy the last moments of rest before she had to be up to serve her master.

Usually if he was away she wouldn't rise so early, but winter was a slow season where everybody was horded up in their own homes minding their own business and riding out the cold and chill in stoic indomitableness. To put it simply the cold made sure people didn't get into to much trouble.

The Dark One's business quieted down to trickle being that wars were put in a stasis of sorts leaving hardy warriors frozen to the bone in their respective camps awaiting the warm days to start fighting once more, people wishing to connive and plan were driven indoors to wait out the cold, and those who had dark intents in their hearts hibernated their black deeds to wait for fairer weather.

Despite all this the Dark One seemed not to mind that business was nearly nonexistent. He always liked to say people became all the more desperate when problems were allowed to stew and ferment and fear to grow and blossom to choke about their hearts.

In the long waxing hours of boredom stashed up in a house for warmth, people would begin to plot and scheme and worry and doubt. Were bandits to attack their town? Were crops to be fruitful, or would it be a poor season? Was war on the horizon? Everything bubbled and simmered noxiously in the hearts of men and women all through the dreary world of snow and cold so when spring dawned they would be practically begging to call upon the infamous Dark One.

The icy cold was also a double blessing for it allowed her master time to work on his potions and more time to brood and forget whatever he was trying to forget when he spun, and also spend more time with her.

A heated blush of creamy pink bounded to Belle's cheeks at the unwarranted thought of him sitting with her by the table in the Main Hall sharing the cups of warm tea simply losing themselves in conversation as the gray cold world outside remained in the frozen clutches of father winter.

Perhaps the winter would help her get closer to know the man behind the shimmering scales. The cold brought people together, as the old saying went.

She couldn't help but picture his gray-gold hand over hers squeezing slightly, his magic curling about her palm and brushing against her skin, as they spoke. It was only a passing fancy of him and her, but one she liked to think of often enough.

She had never met anyone who could bandy conversation with her like he did. In her old home she'd never found many people to talk with leaving her only company the silent books that she loved so. Courtly women never understood and often looked down upon her love of knowledge and intellect, while men of her old home would often snort and whisper that it was improper behavior or consider it below them to speak of matters of war and true life from behind the silken curtains of luxury with a woman.

Whatever subject that arose from her fertile mind could always be delved into a length with her master, making the shortening daylight come and go all too swiftly. Belle's mind could not help but think back grimly to Gaston where she couldn't have spoken an entire five minutes to him without him being lost. Unless it had something to do with valorous deeds on the field of battle or his immense trophy collection of ferocious wildlife.

Some days, the beauty had to admit, she was actually glad the so called Dark One had taken her away. It had saved her from a life of matronly drudgery bound by chains of rich lace and finery as a noble woman married to a knight. She didn't mind, and often enough relished the hard work, and after her chores were at an end it allowed her to be normal, free Belle away from asinine courtly gossip and pale faced ladies that she despised to be.

A slight grin etched upon her lips as she finally decided that laying in bed thinking of Rumpel and how he had delivered her from a provincial life wasn't going to make his, no, their breakfast magically present itself. Why lay pondering fondly of him when she could speak with him in an hour or so?

Throwing off the warmed blanket, Belle swung her legs over the bed to get the first draft of true mountain winter air. A faint yelp of chilled surprise snipped out of her mouth as the cold permeated everything around her. The drafty air whispered through the gray stone, chilling the floor to where she fumbled for her shoes so that her bare feet wouldn't be directly on the ground as she wrapped the quilt back over her body trying to regain the heat.

After chalking up the courage to leave the warmth of her bed, the beauty hurriedly dressed in her warmest attire and zipped out of the room like the cold that swirled about her would grab her in its icy grip.

She had never felt cold like this, not even when she had taken a plunge into a river in her younger years. It nipped at her like an angry dog, making shivers crawl along the ridges of her spine as she scuffled out into the hall.

The darkened walkways were even colder, the chill seeming to seep through the stones and ooze along the corridors making Belle briefly wonder why the entire hall was coated in ice! Her breath came out in wispy clouds of pallid vapors as she rubbed her hands together to ward off the pressing encompassing cold.

In her head she was thanking Rum for taking her out of the 'guest room' or dungeon the second day she had arrived. She could only imagine the drafty cold of the cell, barren of everything except disparagement and sorrow. Unless he had some enchantment in place she could have very well frozen to death.

Entering the kitchen the beauty immediately fumbled for the hearth to rekindle the softly smoldering ashes and light the fire to bring warmth into the frigid chamber.

"You would think with all his magic he could make an enchantment to keep the castle warm." Belle growled through chattering teeth; being no lover of the cold.

But in retrospect what did he need such for. Cold never truly affected him and for so long he had lived by himself it had probably never even entered his mind to concoct such a thing.

As the roaring flames began to spread its warm glow over the kitchen, Belle began to hurriedly get the implements for breakfast ready. Something filling and hot would have to do this morning to ward off the chill that steeped inside the Dark Castle.

Her bright sky blue eyes briefly glanced at the tiny squat window that sat grimly inlaid and almost dug out of the rocky stone of the castle. Her breath caught in her throat as she gasped at the sight and froze in place. Blankets of solid white new fallen snow layered upon the hard earth and capped the jagged mountain peaks with its blinding alabaster brilliance.

Coppices of dark fir and pine trees were caked with the powdery flakes of snow looking almost akin to perfectly frosted cakes all standing tall in the shaded glades of the bordering forest.

On the first night of winter the thick charcoal gray clouds brought the sea of snow to the land covering it all in the heaps and mounds of startling white. Belle had seen snow before, but never so much in all her life! Her eyes were wide in wonder, her hands clasping the precipice of the window as she pulled herself up to look out.

This almost made the cold worth it. If she was greeted with a picture of undisrupted beauty, not broken by the treaded path of life, all winter then it was a most glorious season indeed.

~8~8~

"I assume you've seen the _light _dusting of snow we got last night, Dearie." Rumpelstiltskin stated casually with just a hint of mischief as Belle entered the main hall. He couldn't help but crack a small grin, his eyes seeming to glimmer when she appeared with tea tray in hand.

Every morning he looked forward to dining with Belle like a child did a special holiday; it was one of his simple pleasures he would never admit to anyone he treasured with all his heart.

He had taken the liberty of lighting fireplace early letting the warmth steal about the chamber to suffuse it with heat and banish away the stiff cold that permeated the gray stone.

Belle's smile fell wide upon her lips as she nodded once before doling out breakfast. "Indeed I did." She paused for a moment, sighing at him. "It is beautiful. The pureness and the clean untainted feel to the freshly fallen snow is just marvelous."

The Dark One fought to contain a laugh at her words, as she put it, 'marvelous'. Snow was just snow; she was the beautiful one, Rumpel thought unable to keep the feeling from surfacing even though he cursed himself for thinking it.

"Beautiful indeed." He replied mechanically forcing himself to speak, his gaze never faltering off of her.

For the second time that day a blush flourished across the beauty's face making her cheeks awash with crimson. Turning her head down to the task of preparing tea, she hoped he couldn't see the tinge of ruby. Some part of her couldn't help but think he hadn't been talking about the snow, but that was just silly of course. What else could he possibly be referring to? Certainly not her.

Inwardly scolding herself the beauty banished the thought away as quickly as it had sparked, forcing herself not to think of such foolish things. Why would he speak of anything else?

A sudden heavy draft of icy wind filtered through the main hall making the fire in the hearth leap and flutter to and fro rapidly while causing Belle to shiver with a chattering cold that gratefully made the thought slide away from her mind.

Rumpel frowned immediately at the way she trembled against the cold, although he could see she was trying to stifle it in his presence. Snapping his dexterous fingers a swirling mist of purple wafted by his hands to make one of his dark cloaks appear. In the blink of an eye he was to his feet to drape it across her slender shoulders for warmth.

The fabric was coarse and garish, the color an ugly smear of gray found in cold ashes, but it was enchanted with a warmth spell that would beat back the cold. It was more suited to his lanky, tall frame and was too big for her but it did the job nicely.

This was the second time he had done this, although to her this was the first time. He would really have to get Belle her own cloak. He made a mental note to find or make something more suitable, lovelier, for her form that could successfully keep her warm in the Dark Castle as he took a step back from her.

His hands desperatly wanted to skim down the length of her arms when he had placed the cloak upon her shoulders, but he fought the urge silently in a battle against himself. Instead he folded his hands behind him, his talons digging into his palms to keep from touching her again.

Belle shivered again, but this time it was not because of the cold. The feel of his nimble hands as they brushed about her shoulders warmed her far quicker than the enchanted cloak did.

"Th-thank you." She stuttered almost breathlessly, just as she did when he had caught her from her precarious tumble off the ladder. She forced herself not to look into his eyes fearful he might see a glimmer of what bloomed in her heart and ached for him.

Her hand fell to the thick iron clasp about her clavicle that kept the cloak in place as if touching it would slow the rhythm of her heart. For all her wit she could never figure out why her heart decided it wanted to be an acrobat every time he touched her or he smiled in that warm quirkish way that made her want to smile as well no matter how she felt.

He acknowledged her thanks with a slight tilt of the head as he retook his seat and snatched up his chipped cup covetously like some special treasure. After taking a sip he quirked his head slightly to the side and pressed his finger tips against one another making a sort of triangle with his hand as he peered at Belle intently form across the table. "And what will you be doing this frightfully cold day, Belle-of-mine?" He asked in his curious high pitched impish way that Belle found endearing as he used the pet name he sometimes called her when he was in a pleasant mood.

The beauty shrugged casting her glance about the main hall that had once seemed so foreboding, but now felt so comfortable, like home. "Reading mostly I suppose. I've started this tale of two royal twin brothers where one get put in an iron mask." She replied simply.

"Hmm, bold of you to have started giving yourself days off." Rum commented frivolously as he took another draught of tea. He hid his smile behind the blue and white ceramic; his nimble talons drumming smartly upon the tea cup.

Unperturbed by his words, the beauty merely grinned and flourished her fingers through the air in mimicry of Rum as if she was showing him the palace. "There is nothing to be done besides the basic work here and there that I can be finished with in an hour. I've polished and waxed, and scrubbed so much I think I might actually wear some of your things down instead of keeping them clean." She laughed pleasantly sending the Dark One's heart somersaulting in his chest. "Why don't you join me?" Belle added on almost as an after thought.

The pair had an unspoken rule of territory inside the Dark Castle, even though it all belonged to Rumpelstiltskin. The servants quarters were Belle's (which he had overlooked that awkward day a few weeks ago) along with the library he swore to himself he wouldn't enter without her sanction. It was her sanctuary and she should be given some time to be away and pretend a monstrous beast didn't own her. She should have one thing that made her happy at least.

Truth be told he felt honored she would ask him into her private sanctuary, and what better day when the world had transformed into a sheet of unblemished pure white.

"Perhaps." He finally replied coughing awkwardly as he realized he'd been staring at her the whole time he'd been lost in thought. "I'm afraid though, I am not the most avid of readers though."

"Then I'll read to you." The beauty retorted tenderly holding back a laugh as she nursed her tea slowly in her hand.

The Dark One muttered an amused snort at her words, his eyes softening from their hard onyx slate to something far warmer. He suddenly realized, by the flash in her eyes and the twitch of her lip that she was serious about the offer of reading to him. She must have been terribly lonely if she would actually tolerate him for company when it wasn't a necessity.

"I'd like that." He finally said lowly, his voice sounded very human instead of the impish timbre it usually held.

~8~8~

The evil queen glared hatefully out of her large glazed frosted tower window, lost in thought as she watched the sprawling black maze of land below her covered in the fine white powder called snow.

The snow that piled about Regina's palace was less than glorious unlike the spread of the Dark One's rich estate. The roads people traversed where treacherous and muddy, the streets were sloshed with black ice and filthy snow that stunk of refuse and dung that was stacked into corners to get out of people's way.

People were all clumped up for warmth around sputtering sad fires, mingling the detestable scents of sweat, unwashed human, wet leather, ale, charred meat, and animal all together for a less than pleasant scent that rose upon the frigid air.

Regina hated the snow for its very name reminded her of the object of her absolute hatred - Snow White. If she could she'd never let another flake of the foul stuff fall upon the land, but alas she could not beckon the weather to bow to her magic's.

The slightest of smirks marbled upon her glossy ruby red lips at a sudden thought. At least, of course, the clouded precipitous winter conditions would aid her in her plot. No one truly sought much of anything in the cold season meaning there was a good chance that Rumpel, and the woman he no doubt had raped in his drunken revelry were stuck in close quarters together.

If being stuck with the Dark One for several cold harrowing months didn't make that slave bitter and hateful being so close to the man who had ravished her without remorse then Regina would give up her kingdom!

"So what's our next move?" A hard voice asked lazily from behind, making Regina fight the urge to turn around and send one good spout of fire at the man who had spoken.

The queen sighed quietly calling up her patience as she placed her bare palms upon the coarse window ledge to keep her temper in check. "Nothing. Winter is here, there is not much we can do except wait for Belle to begin to hate Rumpelstiltskin." She replied tonelessly grim with just a hint of irritation.

"Surely there must be something we can do." Gaston plowed on with false irritability and protest.

In truth, he was fine with waiting for spring in the queen's barracks with the other knights, drinking ale and eating roasted boar and boasting of old glories all the while having an endless supply of tavern wench's at his beck and call. Still, he needed to keep up the pretense of wanting Belle back in case the queen got distracted by the particular plot and decided to move on to other ventures. Who knew, royals were fickle when it came to who they wanted dead and didn't.

"Perhaps later in mid winter." Regain admitted placatingly, her keen eyes searching the frosted icy horizon that seemed to repel what little sun rose now and glimmered almost ominously. "But for now all we can do is sit back and wait for something to grow between them."

Regina would have shrieked in fury if she knew it was the exact opposite of what she desired to grow. For of course, the cold did bring people together.


	17. Exceptions

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, Lovelies!_

**~8~8~**

In the dark months of winter, the grand library, once a place only Belle ventured to relax and lose herself amidst the intriguing world of books, became master and slaves usual haunt in the cold, looming Dark Castle.

Rumpel could barely wait till after Belle's light chores were at an end so he could escort the lovely beauty into her sanctuary to lose himself in the tone of her warm voice as she read the pages to a tome aloud, and become hypnotized in the warm sapphire hue of her eyes as they searched the fragile parchment of any particular book.

The tongues of fire inside the library hearth guttered and flickered heartily casting its warm orange glow about the entire room; draping the many tomes in dreary shadow that slunk about the edges of the chamber. The logs crackled and popped to a steady tempo that almost seemed to accompany Belle's soft voice as she read the words of the tome to him.

As usual the silver tea tray laden with its most common burden of cups, kettle, and sugar pot sat between them for easy access and to perhaps draw a line in the…whatever they had to keep them from getting to close.

The pair sat in front of the roaring fire quiet cozy amidst a forest of pillows, even though a blizzard was swirling and blustering about out upon the land like an angry behemoth that was howling in fury, bringing yet again another few feet of white that blanketed the land in a sea of drifty snow.

Rumpel propped himself up on his elbows as his eyes were pinioned at his Belle. Wispy tendrils of russet hair fell about her face, but she didn't seem to notice, so enthralled with the tale. Her nose was tucked into the red colored book with the picture of a horse and a knight charging on the front cover as she related what was taking place in the story.

Not that he was paying much attention of course. It was something about a disinherited knight or something so laughable he couldn't understand why a woman as bright as Belle would read such nonsense.

No, instead of paying attention he would much rather lose himself in thought of his slave and simply stare at her features alight with the warm glow of flame that danced gaily upon her porcelain skin and made her eyes shimmer like the sea itself. In fact he was beginning to think he could stare at her for all eternity and never grow tired of it.

"Rumpelstiltskin what did I just finish reading?" Belle asked in a lofty sigh as she closed the tome solemnly and laid the book on her lap. There was almost a mock accusing undertone in her voice as if she knew he hadn't been paying attention.

The fiend's features flashed quizzically at suddenly being put on the spot by his servant, his scaly gray-gold flesh twinkling amidst the firelight as he furrowed his brow. Maybe he should have been paying more attention instead of watching her lovely eyes dart from letter to letter happily absorbing the tale.

The magical monster ventured a guess nonchalantly as he flourished his fingers through the warm air as if it were obvious. "He died horribly with a gaping sword wound slashed through his belly draining him dry of his life's blood and wondering why he started on such a foolish journey."

"Not at all, he found his love, slew the evil baron, and rode away with his lady to live the quiet life as a humble farmer!" Belle groaned though couldn't suppress a scolding but all-suffering smile at the fiend.

A harsh incredulous scoff snapped lowly from his thin lips, as he rolled his eyes comically at such foolishness. "All well and good, but in the real world he would die and the silly woman would be forced to wed the powerful baron and that would be that. Things don't work like they do in some bards tale, Dearie, the bad usually win as you can see." He proffered a hand at himself, smiling in malicious pride.

He wasn't evil, Belle wanted to retort, but she bit it back choosing not to broach that particular vein of conversation at present. The Dark One was many things, but as she knew him or thought of him at least, evil was not one of them.

"Well call me a wishful day dreamer, but I think it could happen." Belle retorted with a superior sniff as she clutched the crimson tome to her chest. It was only wishful thinking of course, but Belle simply wouldn't be Belle if she was not a wistful dreamer.

"Really now? If such happenstances where true then some brave chivalrous warrior would charge in here and rescue the enthralled princess from the clutches of the monster." Rum countered clucking his tongue in admonishment as he pointed a thin finger in her direction, though he lost his gray smile. "You see that's mere fairy tale, in the real world I would probably turn sir knight into a snail and squish him beneath my boot."

Rumpel knew rather well that in the real world monsters got what they wanted because the truly brave were few and far between, and good rarely prevailed in the shimmering blackness that the dark controlled in its iron grip.

Belle nodded once as if accepting his words before a sly grin hinted at her full pink lips. " In the real world are captives supposed to be happy with their captors?" She rebuffed logically with a warm smile, if not a trifle smug at her rebuttal. "There are always exceptions to the rules of life, Rum."

All the world would have argued she should have been bitter and terrified being the Dark One's slave. She should have cursed his very name and wept over a home lost and gone, but she didn't. There should have been hate towards him, but somthing knew and different had taken root into her heart making her go opposit of everything the rules of the world expected. If there was ever an exception to a rule of fate she certainly was it.

Something in her words, made the Dark One's heart clench as if a fist had just squeezed it. His face changed to an insightful neutral look void of all emotion fearful she would see a hint of something if he didn't make himself a blank page.

She was far too perceptive for him to dare let anything show upon his features that her word affected him so. A muscle jerked in his jaw as he stared directly at her curiously. Could it be true, or could she simply be teasing him with a dark melancholic irony? Was she happy with him?

Thankfully he did not have to reply when a loud sneeze rattled through the beauty. She sniffed again, and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, her bright cobalt eyes a bit hazy like blue smoke. Shaking her head slightly, Belle grimaced before placing the book down by the warm hearth stones.

"It's late, why don't we call it a night." Rum suggested, grateful that he had managed to pause their conversation, as he rose from his comfortable seating. "Tomorrow you can read that Lion, Witch and Wardrobe tale." How children could have been transported to their world by a closet made no sense to him in the least, but Belle could read off an army recruitment list and he would have listened simply to hear her speak.

Belle nodded as she sniffed again and straitened the wrinkles out of her woolen garb. Picking up the gilded tray that had sat betwixt them she carefully hefted it before offering him a faint pale smile. "Agreed." She replied, before her breath hitched intermittently heralding another sneeze.

"Are you alright, Dearie?" Rum inquired with just a small hint of anxiousness. Onyx eyes intently scanned over her from the crown of her chestnut tresses to her feet, his black orbs narrowed, but never missing anything.

The beauty nodded as she padded towards the door, another loud sneeze venturing from her person. "Quite, I'll be right as rain tomorrow." She promised with a slight determined nod that shifted her lovely chestnut curls about her shoulders.

Turning back to face him, she offered a reassuring smile that made the Dark One's insides twist with longing to actually feel and caress that tender smile against his own lips. "Good night, Rum." She bid pleasantly, although her words seemed a bit nasally.

With that she took her leave through the dimly lit corridors leaving Rum to merely shake his head and laugh softly. He had feeling her words of 'right as rain' would not ring so true tomorrow.

~8~8~

"Good morning, Ru-." Belle paused her greeting as a sneeze erupted from her. The contents resting upon the silver tray in her hand clattered about ominously swaying this way and that, as if on the brink of tumbling from her hand as the beauty entered the main hall.

The Dark One's features furrowed in a frown as Belle laid the tray down precariously on the table. She wasn't herself by any means, her skin was pallid having lost it's healthy parlor, the only color upon her pale flesh a red nose that twitched in irritation, and the all about out-of-it look that emanated from her graceful form.

The fiend knew immediately she was ill, mostly likely with a regular cold, but perhaps with a touch of flu. It had had to happen sooner or later, he surmised tritely with a displeased grimace. The castle was like an ice chest, and even though he tried making it as warm as possible one could only do so much. And even with plans to craft her a cloak to ward off the chill, it wasn't ready; not by a long shot.

With a brief shake of the head the magical monster tutted at his slave as he neared her. "I thought so last night. You, Dearie, are sick."

"I'm fine." Belle protested lamely as another sneeze bellowed out followed by a series of harsh coughs indicating a scratchy throat to the observant Dark One.

"And I'm the Blue Fairy." He remarked in a sarcastic snort, though immediate softened once more seeing her in abject misery. He absolutely loathed seeing her miserable and looking akin to someone dead on their feet.

Sighing though it sounded far more endearing than annoyed, the fiend twiddled his wiry fingers in her direction making the thin foggy lines of lilac purple magic burst from his fingertips.

Belle couldn't help but inhale the sickly sweet odor of the vaporous magic as it swirled about her. A shiver rankled through her skin, prickling at the nape of her neck, as the magic skimmed across her flesh, as if caressing about her then seeping into her body.

In an instant the pounding head ache in her skull fell to only a mild throbbing and she could finally smell the sweet leaves of tea steeping in the ceramic kettle and the fresh scent of orchard apples topped on porridge. Taking a tremulous gulp she found that her throat seemed no longer like a gravel pit and the only remnant of the fever she held was clammy flesh.

A sigh of relief echoed through her refreshingly as her eyes flashed absolute gratefulness to her master. "Thanks, Rum." She smiled warmly at him before turning back to the task of serving breakfast.

"Not so fast." Rumpel stated commandingly; halting her from dishing out the meal. He waved a hand flippantly back to the door she had entered through making it swing open before crossing his arms. "My magic can only do so much, you still need time to rest or my power will be for naught. Back to bed with you, Dearie."

"But, Rum I-." Belle paused as the fiend raised a hand that brooked no arguing.

He hid a smile at her protest, but shook his head sagely. "Go and rest. I free you of your duties today. In fact." He paused for a moment, his wide mischievous grin edging his lips. "You might say I'm making an exception to the terms of your deal today."

A tired half hearted chuckle emanated from Belle as she flashed him one of her disbelieving smirks. Living almost a year with the infamous Rumpelstiltskin and she still couldn't believe what they said about him. Surely a man who was so kind, couldn't be labeled a beast!

"Off with you now, Belle-of-mine." He ordered gently nudging his head in the servant quarter vicinity.

This time she offered no protest but doggedly strode in the direction of her room, the thought of a warm comfy bed to banish the lingering sickish feeling away into nothingness permeating all her mind.

~8~8~

"Belle." Rumpel called her name loudly as he rapped his knuckles upon the enchanted door. He skillfully hefted a tea tray in one hand as he stood in front of her bedroom almost nervously.

It was a little past midday meaning the dusk would be settling in a couple of hours into utterly frigid night. Hours of nothing but the wretchedly slow creak of his wheel to bring sound into the Dark Castle made the fiend realize how much he enjoyed Belle's company. Her banter through the silence was something he missed more than a little, even if it was just for a day. It made him wonder how he ever stayed in the Castle all by his lonesome for as long as he had.

After spinning all he could, he had walked through the halls, feeling akin to some lonely specter haunting the darkened corridors with out his Belle around to speak with, it had occurred to him Belle had probably not eaten all day.

After a quick decision to magic something up for her after his first two attempts at cooking had failed, he began his awkward journey through the servant's quarters, his ear perked for anything that remotely sounded like sloshing water or bare feet padding upon the stone.

"Belle?" He echoed her name again unsure as he listened closely for any movement. She could be doing a host of things, some of which sent a thrill through him while others made him blush fiercely under his gray-gold tinged skin.

Deciding to chance it, the fiend swung open the door slowly and peaked his head inside. He couldn't help but grin to see her fast asleep lying on her stomach, her arms clutching at the pillow her chestnut hair a mess ruffled about in every wayward direction. Her breathing was slow, but easy, indicating she was probably almost one hundred percent recovered from her illness.

Her room was small, and a trifle messy with a few books stacked haphazardly near the bedside, but to Rumpel he hoped that meant she was comfortable enough to let her room be slightly messy, showing that she had finally grown at ease enough to allow such.

Perhaps it was the push of drafty air that stole into the warm room as he entered, but Belle immediately went rigid as if sensing his presence.

The Dark One halted in his tracks, his breath catching tightly in his throat as he stood a fair distance away from the bed. His talons curled and clinked against the tray nervously, as he froze there simply hoping she didn't become offended with him traipsing into her private quarters with out her leave.

She sniffed once, though it wasn't one that told of cold as she turned towards the door. The beauty beamed a sleepy but healthy smile at him immediately thawing out the cold fear that griped him. "Is there something you need?" She inquired slowly, trying to brush the last bit of sleep from her fogged mind.

"No, not at all." He assured her gently as he took a few more steps forward. Laying the tray on her night stand he pulled back his hands clasped in front of him as he continued. "Thought you might be hungry."

She was feeling rather peckish Belle had to admit begrudgingly to herself as her stomach growled like a distempered wolf at the smell of the hearty soup that bobbed temptingly in the bowl that sat upon the tray. And even if she hadn't been she was touched he would think of her. Many masters did not treat their servants so well.

"Starving." She admitted simply before sitting up in bed with a small grunt. She was feeling one hundred percent better and with her renewed health came hunger. Eagerly grabbing the bowl she spooned the hot broth into her mouth with a relish that made the Dark One grin slightly.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked quite suddenly, preparing to take his leave.

Belle made a choking half laughing sound that mumbled out of her full mouth. Rumpel was about to near in alarm when she shooed him back and swallowed the soup. Her eyes twinkling merrily as if he had said something rather hilarious. "Who is master and who is slave here?" She jested good naturedly between her peals of laughter.

Belle found it comical, for when she had struck her deal this was the farthest thing she had imagined. With a master so sinisterly dubbed the Dark One, she didn't think he would give her any consideration. And now he was watching over her like she was the mistress and he the slave.

"It's only temporary until I make sure you're back to full health. I have to keep my things in top working condition." He quipped tartly, tacked on with a devious snicker.

Belle smirked sardonically as she took another slurp of soup. "Oh, and what will you do when I become a fragile elderly maid who can barely shuffle about in rickety old age, Rumpelstiltskin? How temporary will it be then?" She asked light heartedly in joking.

He snorted once, with a faint grin briefly catching on to her humor. "Well thank heaven I won't ever have to worry about that." The fiend remarked off handedly as he moved to pour her a cup of tea from the warm kettle.

"What do you mean?" She asked lowly, the amusement slowly transforming into genuine confusion as she let the spoon slip back into the hot soup, her brow furrowed quizzically. What started in jest had taken an unexpected turn that intrigued the beauty more than a little.

Rum shrugged once, as his charcoal black eyes focused on the wispy trails of steam that caressed and whisked about his face. "Everything in the castle is enchanted never to age or rust. True, some things might become broken due to trifle clumsiness, but never will it fall into disrepair due to time. Whatever I take in I make sure stays how it was the first day I claimed it as my own."

For all the centuries he'd been causing mischief about the realms, striking deals, and taking anything that caught his fancy to have everything slowly become the sordid dust of entropy was not acceptable for the Dark One by any means. When he made a deal for something that caught his eye he made certain it stayed the same.

"Which means I stopped aging the moment I became your property." Belle concluded softly. Her eyes glimmered a pearly blue as she stirred the spoon through the broth in pondering.

She hadn't given it much thought until then but when he said forever he truly meant it. Forever in servitude, watching the world go by eternally through the thick glass panes of the Dark Castle, even if she could tolerate the devious Dark One. Belle tactfully held back a shiver not knowing if it was because the proposition of being eternally a slave was a less than pleasant thought, or if it was due to the sudden thrill and realization that she would be his forever.

A grim sigh rumbled out the Dark One's throat as his lips thinned mildly in annoyance and perhaps shame. "Belle, I don't see you as another possession. I don't think of you as being something I own."

Not anymore at least, true at first he had seen her as nothing more than a walking, talking, albeit pretty trinket, that he had collected on one of his many deals. Now he could never dare itemize her so flippantly callous as that. She was wonderful and beautiful and bright and…Belle and that did not deserve the label of property.

To be fair she no longer thought of him as her slaver either. No, they had gotten far to acquainted for such titles now. The question however was what did they term themselves now.

"Then if you no longer consider me your property what do you see me as?" She inquired, her brow knitting in furtively as she swiveled her head towards him. Her eyes searched with an azure intensity that made him look away to the tray that glinted the sparse sunlight that filtered through the window.

"I mean, true you are still my slave, but I…" His voice tapered off as he drifted into thoughtful quiet, truly unsure what to say. A realization sprang to him that he didn't know what she really was to him anymore.

At first he did only look at her as some foolish woman who had sold herself to him, but so much had changed since that day he had thrown her into the dungeon. Perhaps only time would reveal that answer.

Her face turned to him, her brow partially arched in inquisitiveness. "So you do not see me as another possession?"

"Do you see me as your owner?" He retorted carefully; daring to turn the tables on her.

"Touché." Belle deadpanned, giving him a nod of acknowledgement at his refute.

There, with a brief glint of their eyes, azure clashing with ebony, they silently agreed to leave it at that. For even with two intelligent people, some things were simply far to complicated to think about.

Rumpel should have only seen and thought of her as a simple slave; a drudge brought with the blood of her people to serve him. But her words from the night before held a glimmer of truth to them now that he tremulously dare admit. There was always an exception to the rule.


	18. Cloak

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

It was almost done, Rumpel thought proudly as a sly satisfied smile splayed across his gray-gold features. A chuckle rumbled lowly from his throat as he heafted up the soft fabric to the dying light of day.

Belle's cloak was nearly complete besides for a few finishing touches here and there to accent the lovely garb. The fiend had to admit it looked rather dashing even to his lack of fashion sense. It had been so long since he had ever made anything with his spun gold, but his ancient skill of being a weaver came back as naturally as it had been the day he was tranformed into the nefarious Dark One.

Light green dyed upon fine gossamer was the main color entwined with his golden thread that embroidered the edges and traced in meandering patterns all throughout the teal fabric like yellow vines interweaving with the forest of green. The gold and teal mingled wonderfully together in an odd, but not disagreeable way that made one think of sun filtering through a glade of trees in a forest in summer. In a way it was like Belle; off yet lovely.

Wiry fingers stole across the cloth, making sure the stitches held together nicely so not to fringe or come asunder. Thanks to the magical golden twine, the cloak was stronger than most chain mail and far lighter in weight. It could stop an arrow and a spear thrust and practically put sizable nicks in any blade that was attempting to slash through.

Not that he ever believed his Belle would be caught in such a harrowing situation, but he hadn't gotten as far as he did by being flagrant and reckless. Planning ahead was his creed and so far it had served him well.

The clasp that would hold it together was a special metal known as True Silver a rare ore mined from the blackest pit of their world by only the hardiest of dwarven miners and a far cry from regular silver. It would never tarnish, dent, choke, or break if somehow the cloak was to become caught on something.

Finally, in the middle of the clasp rested a brilliant sapphire that matched Belle's eyes perfectly. It was an elegant many faceted gem that gleamed in all light like a fledging star in the velvet black firmament of night.

The infamous fiend had stumbled upon the priceless jewel when he'd gone pilfering through the Dwarf mines some years back. He had been saving it for something rather special and this seemed to fit the bill perfectly. The precious dark sapphire gem, however glorious, paled in comparison to his servant's lovely piercing cobalt orbs, but it did come in a close second.

Of course that was simply what could be seen of the extravagantly tailored garment. The aesthetics were not the most impressive features of the cloak. Magic thrummed and shimmered between the silken threads of teal and yellow cloth and bristled under each fiber so carefully knit. Warming magic that would keep her comfortable no matter how cold it became, a subtle enchantment to fit over any clothing, and of course rainproof just in case.

The biggest magical endowment upon it, however, was that it defended against any other magic except his own. Anything meant to be cast, charmed, hexed, or enchanted against her would be repelled back to the wielder producing nasty effects on those who would possibly dare attempt to harm his Belle. That had been the most draining spell, but the most important to keep her safe from the magical prowess of his many enemies.

The fiend knew rather plainly he had far too many enemies to consider, and he was not so vainglorious to realize he wasn't invincible. He could be hurt, even if he had the most powerful dark magic galloping through his black blood. And where would that leave Belle if such a ludicrous day did come? Dead or at the harsh mercies of his foe?

If the cloak had been for sale it would have cost a king's ransom in gold and he could think of several reigning monarchs who have practically killed for it to protect themselves for assassin blades and arrows.

Rumpel couldn't help but grin smugly at the thought and the irony that such a treasured, rare cloak was going to a slave. Immediately he scolded himself, about thinking of Belle in such a lowly manner. He would not make her feel like a piece of bartered property any longer. They had come to far for that.

With a low sigh the fiend folded the cloak up expertly, before stashing it away back into a dark niche that hid it from all view save his own. It was ready, now the only question remained was how to present it to her.

It was a thought that had been troubling the magical monster for several days. Should he simply dump it in her lap like it was something he managed to drum up for her at last to combat the chill, or leave it somewhere she could find it in her daily labors? Perhaps sneak into her room and place it on her bed so it could be stumbled upon when the days work was at an end?

Shaking his head forlornly the devious magician grimaced; allowing a low frustrated sigh to rumble past his thin lips in aggitation. Nothing felt right; it was to special to pretend that he was shyly presenting it to her. And besides, he wanted to move past where he was uncomfortable giving her a gift, but it had been so long since he was ever this…thoughtful of some one else.

Murmuring to himself, the fiend strode silently out of his apothecary, the only place he was certain he could leave the cloak hidden from his studious servant Belle. There had to be a perfect way to give it to her; but what?

~8~8~

"Happy Winter's Veil eve, Rumpelstiltskin." Belle proclaimed happily as her master appeared in the downstairs main hall.

Winter's Veil, how could he have forgotten such a time? Rumpel's lips dipped into a gray frown at the words as he strode into the warm chamber. After spending so many centuries traipsing across the realms dates and times and celebrations meant little to his eternal years. He had utterly disregarded most every holiday almost every kingdom celebrated, save for a few where he could cause a bit of mischief every now and again.

The solstice or Winter's Veil, as it was most commonly termed, was the middle of winter where people usually celebrated the half way point of the bitter season. There was also the tale of Great-father winter who roamed the earth defeating the worst parts of his rival Old man winter and all the while handing out good little children gifts for not causing to much trouble in the year.

The fiend padded over to his wheel as he flashed his onyx gaze mildly over to Belle, who sat the window seat watching a world of endless white spread out from the glass pane. "Goody." He deadpanned sarcastically as he began to ply the wheel slow in its creaking hypnotic cycle.

He hadn't at all attended to his spinning as he should have been of late, Rumpel knew rather clearly. In fact for the past few months his presence had been mostly void upon the loom where he toiled.

He may have gotten three and a half spools finished since the winter months had blustered in to claim the land; a paltry number that was a far cry from the stacks of gleaming golden thread he usually produced over the cold season. There would have been far more, but a certain servant always manged to pull him away from his work.

"Come now, Rum, everyone loves Winter's Veil." Belle stated with an amused snort as she brushed her finger tips against the chilled glass. "Unless of course you're that type of person who likes telling children there is no Great-Father Winter."

For Belle, Winter's Veil was a wonderful time in the bleak months of the year when the smells of cedar and pine wood wafted through out the villages and hamlets wreathing the frigid air in hearty fresh wood smoke. The mulled fragrance of thick malt beer and pine decorations gathered from nearby coppices of forest drifted from household to household in a dance that enthralled the senses.

It was a time where the all about happiness of family permeated the thick layers of icy frost and everyone seemed to posses a camaraderie even in the throes of a harsh bitter snow that could warm any heart no matter how frigid.

"No, I'm the kind of creature that if I so ever ran into such a ridiculous person as 'Great-father winter' would probably turn him into a reindeer or some other useless creature." The Dark One replied with his usual sinister snicker as he fed the thread through his wheel.

A faint amused snort emanated from Belle as she shook her head in a mock reproaching manner at her master. "You would ruin everyone's fun, wouldn't you?" She commented unapprovingly though her tone was meant was in fun. "Where's your Winter's Veil spirit?"

"Bah humbug." He remarked in a blustery growl as he hid a endearing smile from playing across his face. "It's nothing but a plot by the royals to make everyone believe their not as miserable as they truly are." The fiend commented blandly though his eyes still remained focused upon his golden thread.

Belle snorted in derision as her warm fingers traced little swirled patterns upon the frosted pane. "No it's not. It's about spending time with people you care about and being thankful they're still with you." She revealed with a trifle melancholy flitting the fringe of her voice.

Winter was a hard time for all people; food was scarce, cold crept into every nook and cranny like a master thief chilling to the bone, while sickness ran rampant and unchecked by even the hardiest of creatures.

Not even royalty was exempt from the bitter trials of winter. Her mother had been one to succumb to the icy grip of the dark months long ago when she was just a child.

The magical monster flicked a brief cursory glance to his slave, as if he sensed the ponderous hurt layered right under the surface of her lovely flesh. Sadness rarely washed over his Belle, meaning there was a deeper insinuation to her words that made her fall into a deplorable quiet.

A part of him nearly asked her the reason for the sudden gloomy demeanor, but something inside forced him to shut his mouth as quickly as he had opened it, as if knowing instinctively there was tender territory there that should not be tread just yet.

"You must have simply adored this time of year, eh?" The fiend remarked at length in his high pitched tones, as he attempted to reverse the blank stare of glommy thought wallowing in Belle's icy blue orbs. "What princess wouldn't? The feast and parties and socializing with the elite of the elite." He chortled, flourishing his fingers through the air.

The beauty's hot breath fogged upon the glass as a sudden small smile tinted her lips. "I rarely attended any of that. No, I liked watching the people below from the village happy and laughing with the children pelting one another with snow balls and the all around joviality of it all. It was nice just to watch."

"So what will you do this year, without all the little…" He paused for a moment, his face twisting in a grimace. "_Happy _moments you so very much adored?" He inquired as his ebony eyes watched the thread slide through his pinched fingers now transformed into gold.

Belle shrugged, though now there was no melancholy flitting in her tone, but a touch of mischief. "The same thing I do every year, spend time with someone I care about."

The beauty had no clue what made her so bold as to say such to her master, but it felt right even as it passed her soft lips. A bit more courage prodded her to look his way to see how her words might have affected him. Would he be angered at such a bold statement made by his servant?

The Dark One remained rigid upon the spinners stool as he stared so intently at the slowly creaking wheel, Belle thought for a moment it might burst into flame. And perhaps, just for a flickering moment, the beauty thought she spied a bit of foggy crimson nipping at the edge of his cheeks, right under the surface of his gray-gold hued flesh.

Her words could always catch him off balance, Rumpel pointed out rather grimly to himself as he forced his body not to show that her words could off-kilter him so. Now why would she say such a thing? To taunt him with dark sarcasm, or drop a hint that she was miserably stuck forever with the beast?

But no, Belle was never cruel in her jests or wit, and besides it sounded so very genuine. Could it have truly been it was he she spoke so tenderly of? Her captor, her slaver, her master the beast?

A pleasant shudder rankled through the Dark One at the thought, making his wiry fingers tremble, but he managed fairly well to it keep it at bay. For a spit moment all he could manage was the intriguing thought about what her words had meant.

Almost strikingly the sudden thought of what to do about the cloak hit him like a blow of fairy magic. A sly grin crossed his face as he knew immediately how he would present her gift.

~8~8~

Winter's Veil dawned in all its gray glory. The sky was a tranquil unwavering slate gray that fell smooth as if a hand had straightened out any wrinkle upon its iron colored hue. Snow lay in one endless stretch of solid white sprawled out upon the entire earth looking akin to a neat made blanket upon the land. A small breeze shifted small flakes of snow upon the unblemished terrain seemingly to meander on for eternity to where land looked like it would meet sky.

Belle sighed wistfully as her elbows leaned against the window sill looking out towards the quiet charcoal gray morn. It was a dawn that reminded her of Winter's Veil mornings of old with her father and mother before she had passed from the land of the living. The thoughts of family gone conjured a touch of sadness that zipped through her and stung upon her spirit, but also fond nostalgia that bloomed inside in the most heartwarming way that banished the most harsh melancholy pangs she felt away.

"I dearly hope we're not going to have food remotely looking like anything pertaining to Winter's Veil." Rumpel stated in his usual cheery demeanor as he practically pranced into the main hall.

Belle couldn't help but laugh at the Dark One's words, though shook her head endearingly at her master. With a small forced smile, the beauty let the moments silent reprieve into Winter's Veil pasts fall away like the leaves of autumn as she prodded herself to enjoy the day like her mother would have wanted. "Fortunately I picked up on the hint you were not to fond of the celebration so we will simply be having the normal."

"Grand." The fiend drawled regally as he hooked a high leather boot around a chair leg. With one smooth motion he pulled it out then deposited himself in the high backed ornate seat heavily.

Inside his heart was back flipping crazily in his chest as he forced himself to be his usual mischievous quipping self. He masked his nervousness with a wall of the normal Rumpelstiltskin; trying not to give a hint of anything towards the insightful Belle. It was only a cloak, albeit, a fine, magical cloak, but a cloak none the less. So why did he feel so anxious about presenting it to her?

Belle arched a brow in suspicion at the Dark One, seemingly seeing through his feigned normalcy, to the nervousness that hummed just beneath the layer of gray-gold skin. "Is something wrong?" The beauty asked warily, her tender cerulean eyes piercing through his façade like a flash of blue light against muddeled darkness.

He forced a thin smile, and shook his head just a fraction, as he laced his fingers together casually. "Not at all. I do have something to give you today, though."

As she took her seat the beauty stared at him in curiosity before slathering a piece of toast with strawberry jam. "Oh? What is it?" She asked nonchalantly though it was only guise to cover her sudden flare of curiosity that sparked in her mind.

If she could see through him so apparently then he most certainly could do the same against her. Rum chuckled as he stirred at his tea forcing himself not to hint anything else so that her inquisitiveness would be all but an inferno by the time breakfast was over. "That would ruin the surprise." He clucked in mock scolding at her before taking a draught of the pleasantly hot brew.

A delicious flavor of warm peppermint tea sparked in his mouth, telling the magical monster that his Belle had most successfully managed to slip a bit of Winter's Veil into their meal.

The beauty merely grinned slyly in between bites of tasty toast; her silence one that mingled a look of innocence that immediately admitted guilt and laced with victory all at once.

"Clever, Dearie." Rum remarked simply as he sipped another nip of the holiday tea; a bit of praise laced in the undertone of his voice.

The pair ate in silence after her subtle stunt, but not without a few incredulous, confused looks from Belle thrown at her master.

What could he be up to? The beauty forced herself to seem uncared and even eat at a normal pace, so that her mind could try to deduce just what exactly he had planned. With an inward sigh, the beauty concluded she'd just have to wait until he deemed the right time to show her whatever it was that was so important.

~8~8~

"All finished?" Rumpel asked with a hint of mischief in his voice as the beauty entered the dimly lit library.

Wiping her hands once against the thick wool of her dress, the beauty smoothed out a few rebellious wrinkles in her blue garb as she nodded. "Yes, the supper dishes are clean and put away."

The fiend couldn't help but offer a thin smile as Belle neared him, his heart palpitating like mad. "Good." Rum replied before he made a faint turning gesture with his hand. "Now turn around and close your eyes."

The beauty stared incredulously at the magical fiend for a few moments, her eyes hard as diamonds as if judging the request and what he desired. What was he be up to?

A half suspicious smile blossomed upon Belle's lips at the order but she did as he requested; turning away from him and shutting her eyes. He had mentioned something earlier in the day, but why make her wait till the chill of night when what little sun shown upon the frozen land had retreated long ago behind the mountains jagged peaks?

With a twitch of his nimble fingers a thick cloud of lavender hued smoke encircled his hand briefly before the cloak appeared through the purple satiny mists. Shaking it once as if ridding the wispy tendrils of lilac magic away from the garment, the fiend took a few silent steps towards the beauty before draping it over her shoulders. His dexterous talons hastily snapped the clasp into place making sure it wasn't uncomfortable or scraped against her porcelain flesh.

His ebony orbs took in how it looked against her lovely body before he took one wary step back away from her as if he didn't deserve the right to be so close to something so beautiful as Belle. "Now you can open your eyes." He revealed; forcing himself not to sound breathless about how lovely it looked upon her.

The beauty gasped as she opened her azure eyes, finding the green and gold cloak draped over her form. It was remarkably soft unlike his scaly rough cloaks he had loaned on the most frigid of days and warm against every draft and chill that stalked about the Dark Caste and permeated the gray rough stone.

She could feel the heavy presence of his magic intertwining with the golden thread and soft teal fabric almost akin to another layer of the cloak. Usually his power felt harsh and cold with a faint iron smell of blood or its sickly sweet essence, but the powers that bristle about the cloak felt warm and gentle and protective; curling about her as the tangible cloth did.

A hand absently went to the clasp to feel the cold blue gem that was inlaid to keep the cloak secure. The facets and prisms glistened radiance through the sapphire giving it an almost ocean blue sheen in the dreary light of the hearth.

Being a merchant king's daughter she knew the grab was very literally priceless in beauty and in power. And yet he had given it to his slave. It was something he had not bargained for in some deal, or stolen off an assassinated royal, or even plundered from a noble's tomb of ages past. He had crafted it, with his own two hands, and imbued it with his most intimate magic's. For her.

"You…you made this…for me?" Belled asked hollowly, though it sounded more of a statement than a question. She knew he had tailored it for her; she just couldn't fathom _why _he had done such for a simple slave.

The fiend shrugged his lanky shoulders in false nonchalance, trying to act as if it where a simple everyday gesture. "There was a need for one of your own. I can't have you freezing every winter." He replied with his usual little giggle, but this time it seemed far warmer and almost in relief.

"It's beautiful; I love it." Belle stated as her hand smoothed over the fine gossamer green and golden thread. She sniffed once, blinking back a tear that glimmered in her eye as she smiled a watery loving grin at the Dark One. "I thought you didn't Celebrate Winter's Veil." The beauty remarked with bubbling laughter that broke through the press of tears that wanted to fall at his thoughtfulness.

The fiend averted his eyes, almost shyly at her comment; unused to the warm feeling that bubbled inside as her soft eyes scanned him. He felt his throat tighten, as sweat nipped at the back of his neck.

She liked it! It made all the weeks of nightly toil crafting such a garment worth every second just to see her azure orbs glimmer like the very stars themselves and the special smile he liked to think she kept just for him.

"I don't, it's just coincidence, Dearie." He replied, feigning innocence. Striding over to the fireplace he took his usual seat upon the thick warm rug and proffered his hand to the other side where she sat. "Now are you going to read or simply stand there in awe and preen?" He jested.

A tight smile marbled upon Belle's lips as she chuckled quietly before settling down on the other side. Taking out a book, the beauty looked over it once, with a glance that made the Dark One's mouth go dry. What was that look? It was one he certainly hadn't seen before, one that made him feel like he couldn't breathe.

Cozying up the beauty flipped open the book, stealing a slight grin from behind the tomes cover. "Twas the night before winter's Veil and all through the house…"

As her soft voice began to drone about him, the fiend gave a content warm sigh as he thought of the singular look that sent streaks of lightening down his spine. Perhaps this holiday wasn't so bad, he surmised with a hint of amusement before he turned his complete attention back to Belle, and how lovely she looked draped in her cloak.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: I suggest you all stock up on Rum/Belle fluff, cause this is the last we'll be seeing of it for a little while… _


	19. Weakness

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, you awesome, wonderful, people!_

**~8~8~**

"Some deals finally come up, Rum?" Belle asked curiously, her brow perched just a fraction as the fiend casually whisked on his tattered dark cloak.

The magical monster brushed a fine layer of gray dust that filmed over his black scaled garb sending particles of charcoal gray motes spilling into the air. A ghost of a smile wisped across his thin lips as he nodded absently towards the beauty. "My aren't you perceptive, Dearie. But of course I'm off to strike a few bargains! It's the worst part of winter and some people are starting to run out of food." He snickered once in his usual manner, his onyx eyes glinting greedily like a ravenous demon about to be loosed upon the frosted world; ready to conjure mischief and pain wherever he chose to ramble. "Desperation is beginning to settle in mass around the realms. Always a most lucrative time for deal making."

Larders were running low in every kingdom, peasants and nobles alike were beginning to feel the precise and poignant gnawing pangs of hunger that seemed to make the cold even more all consuming and biting against even the hardiest of souls as their stocks began to dwindle.

It was the only time in the dreaded months of cold that there actually was much business to speak of. Some kingdoms might have a trinket or two to barter to catch his interest enough to procure a bargain with, meaning they might receive an all to needed boon of food to feed their slowly starving subjects.

Belled flashed the Dark One a caustic glare at his carelessly spoken words of people's desperation and misfortune, but didn't say anything about his loathsome if not advantageous deal making.

There was never any use to trying and convincing him of using his magic simply to do a good dead of course. He was who he was and nothing would change his usual devious dealing self even if there was a sweet, considerate creature that prowled the dark recesses of his soul and haunted the shadows of his hard heart.

Sighing, the beauty finished wiping down the last pedestal in the main hall before turning to completely face her master. "Very well, I have a few more cleaning chores than usual I can finish up today, anyhow." She revealed casually before shutting the glass cabinet that held his precious trinkets she so fastidiously kept tidy.

"Oh, am I only supposed to be shooed away to the cruel world when you have many chores to get to? Do I get in your way whilst you making the castle ship-shape, Belle-of-mine?" The fiend inquired in laconic amusement though his falsetto tones seemed rather absent as he was concentrating only mildly on their chat.

His head was tilted down as he tried in vain to knot together the cords about the cloak thrown over his lanky shoulders; to keep it pulled tight against the cold that would assail his wiry body once out in the frozen elements.

Unfortunately, it appeared that the rebellious ties were refusing to lace together properly, causing the Dark One a sudden low flared irritation akin to the mulled embers of a dying fire. His nimble fingers fumbled futilely with the thin leather straps as he labored unsuccessfully to tie them properly so he could depart. Yet the ties seemed to have a mind of their own always fidgeting about from how he desired them.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." She replied, unable to keep a chuckle from slipping out as she began to wipe down the long oaken table that sat squarely in the main hall.

Belle couldn't help but grin endearingly at the way he wrestled against the cloak cords; willing them with only mere strength to untangle and knot accordingly with each jerky flick of the wrist that only worsened the situation. A small intimate sigh whispered past her soft lips as she took a few steps towards him in mock exasperation. "Here, let me you silly man."

In a flash the beauty's hands were at his chest, her delicate fingers dutifully untying the balled mess of leather cord he had conjured with his irritated fussing about with them.

To have her hands laid upon his chest, her body so close he could smell her sweet fragrance like the first blooming scent of spring that wafted upon a warm zephyr, momentarily stunned the devious Dark One in place; making his claws fall limply to his sides.

The black heart pulsing inside him lurched spasmodically at the tender touch of her fingers brushing against his dark leather jerkin as she sought to undo the tangled mess he had brought forth with his hard fought efforts.

She did not shy away from his gangly, wiry form, or even shiver at the ugly dinged glint of his grayish-golden flesh like most. Or even veer her gaze away from his murky serpentine eyes that more than a few craven peasant whispered looked akin to the darkest pits of void.

He had a reputation for giving others harrowing nightmares that constantly stalked the realms of dreams or making others run in stark unfathomable terror of him, but here she stood, oh so close to him, as if he were simply another normal man and not a vicious sinister beast that had spirited her away from all she knew. There almost appeared to be an air of peaceful comfortableness around him; something he could barely believe anyone would have towards him.

Scrunching her brow in concentration, tongue barely peeking out of the side of her lips as she focused; her startling azure eyes diligently pin pointed the source of the knotting while her dexterous fingers fished out the tight lumps of bond leather that had littered the cords length.

After unloosing the mess of brown leather successfully, the beauty's deft digits neatly tied the leather bindings together skillfully.

Although the magical fiend knew he should be thinking it, for one small, longing moment the Dark One wished with all his power he could feel those hands tracing across his bare flesh to jolt him into a delicious world were he would be delirious and drunk off her mere touch. To feel her fingers wrapping around his body to pull him closer sent shivers running up and down his spine that he had to fight with all his strength no to show.

"There." Belle proclaimed with a proud superior grin, making one last tug against the leather cords to see if they remained secured.

Flicking her cerulean gaze to meet his slate ebony orbs, the beauty's lips twitched in amusement and perhaps something more as her palms remained against his black leather vest. "How is it you are the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms, yet cords to a cloak befuddle you so, oh mighty Dark One?"

"Everyone has their weaknesses, Dearie. Infuriating and utterly ridiculous cords to cloaks just happen to be mine." He replied with a cavalier wink tacked along with his devious chortle.

A light hearted laugh echoed from the russet haired beauty, almost seeming to thrum like the warmth that settled about them and drift into the fiends black heart sparking a little luminescence to be lit in the fathomless darkness that pooled about his spirit.

The chuckled only lasted for a few wonderful precious moments before tapering off rather awkwardly from the lovely Belle's throat. Her eyes fell back down to her hands that were still laid over the cords she had straightened that where tied right over his chest. Recoiling her hands back, she curled them into loose fists by her side as she lightly bit her lower lip in trepidation as if franticly pondering what to do with her hands and why had she kept them upon his body so long.

Why did being so close to him make her feel so out of place? Was it his intrigued intense and yet innocent stare that wonderingly searched her as if she were some sort of curiosity he had yet to unlock of its mysteries?

A faint embarrassed smile etched across her features along with a foggy rosy pink blush that lit up her cheeks like the subtle glow of dawn that cast her face in a wonderful tint.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, the Dark One dipped a small bow to his servant. "Much appreciated, Belle-of-mine. I knew you would come in handy for something." He quipped roguishly as he snapped the cloak about him with an extravagant flourish.

At that the tension so common between master and slave melted away like snow faced with the blazing sun of midsummer.

Belle merely shook her head at his boisterous antics; successfully holding back a laugh as she attempted to be serious. "You just try not to get into to much trouble. The last thing we need here is an angry mob milling outside the gates hefting pitchfork and torches."

"No promises." He grinned rather mischievously showing the top row of his jagged faded yellow teeth that looked akin to the cragged peaks of the mountain that surrounded his home.

With that he strode out of the citadel, leaving Belle to watch him go out upon his less than pleasant endeavourers. Most people might have been wary by the wolfish, ravenous smile that marbled upon his face, but Belle had never been frightened of the all too devious upturn of the lips.

In fact once or twice, in the darkest hours of night, she sometimes pondered what it would feel like to have that grin, even if it was rather beastly, pressed against her own.

~8~8~

"Rumpelstiltskin is popping over for a 'quaint' visit today." Regina revealed to the brutish Gaston in tactful carelessness as she sipped a goblet of spiced wine sparingly.

The hulking black haired knight looked ragged, to put it kindly. His face was pale and swarthy from the harsh acrid smoke from the barracks and dark circle heavily imprinted under his eyes told tale of many a romp with the tavern wenches that proliferated the knight's quarters like hungry disease ridden rats.

Taking up the bottle of fine spiced wine, the uncouth barbarian took a long swallow, heedless of the delicate flavors of mulled spices, before wincing at the fiery sensation of the brew oozing down his throat. "So, we're finally going to break the little imp so I can take back what's mine?" Gaston inquired eagerly, his voice a trifle slurred, but plainly duplicitous and bloodthirsty from being holed up with out one battle all through the dark winter.

He fiercely punched a meaty fist into his open calloused palm, grinning maliciously at the thought of getting revenge on the weak looking little dog that had to rely on his magic to win his battles and not brute strength and steel.

A harsh, mirthless laugh barked from between the evil queens full crimson lips as she shook her head sagely at the knight's stupidity. "No, no my dear brute. We would be fools to play our hand so soon against him. I know the devious little worm better than anyone else alive; I just want to see if the bottle fiasco worked in our favor."

"How will he tell you that?" Gaston belched ignorantly, before swiping his wine stained lips with the back of his grimy hand.

"Because I can read every look on his ugly, scaly face, no matter how many giggles or quips he makes." The sinister sorceress replied with a sigh that forced herself to be patient to the half-wit Gaston. "All I have to do is probe with a few subtle innocent inquiries and I will be able to tell just what the situation is concerning the Dark One and his pet."

The knight grumbled, distempered, mingled with a hint of dubiousness, his red tinged orbs narrowed against the illustrious witch that watched him with an all to hateful glare that showed plainly in her glimmering turquoise eyes. "I don't think it will work. All this business and nice bantering like you're the best of friends is far to tedious. Do you really think you know every thing about him? You've got magic powers, just beat him one on one."

Immediately a wet gurgling cough hacked out of the slow warriors wine stained lips as an odd squelching sound that emanated from around his throat.

Dark magic battered against his pale flesh, and wrapped around his body like icy vengeful talons of a skeletons hand. A scream barely managed to sputter pathetically out of his cracked lips before the knight flew through the air, the claws of dark magic still firmly clamped around his torso.

He grunted once in agonizing pain as he collided in a jolting crash with the marble of the court ceiling. Little flakes of crusted dirt and debris wafted from the towering heights to drift to the polished court.

Dark coils of black magic erupted and swirled out of Regina's outstretched palm, as she smiled in wicked satisfaction at the knight's panic. "Don't take that tone with me, idiot. Like you have even a morsel of a clue about the powers we wield. We will do this my way, and you will not question me on any decisions. Are we clear?" She asked, her voice sounding sickeningly sweet but mingled with an acrid poison.

"Y-y…yes, you majesty!" Gaston stammered in blind panic; his watery eyes wide with terror and white hot fear. If the brutish knight had one weakness it was heights, although he never revealed that to anyone. He would have given her his soul if she would but let him back on solid ground!

Letting him stay clung to the ceiling a moment longer to revel in his stark terror, the queen smirked menacingly as she slowly, and almost gently let him descend from his precarious perch pinned against the lofty ceiling. "Good. Now that we understand with a touch more clarity, get out of sight. I don't want that toad fleshed imp to sense anything amiss than the usual hateful niceties and jostling grievances."

The knight staggered to his feet, his breathing dull and heavy as his ape like heart pounded away in his chest. Regina arched a curios brow as if sensing he might foolishly defy her words.

A moment passed before the hulking brute bowed staggeringly then departed with all possible, slightly drunken, haste.

"Idiot." Regina snorted in disgust before turning her attention back to nursing the delicious drink swirling in her golden goblet and waiting for the Dark One to arrive.

~8~8~

Even though Belle was truly content and perhaps even…happy in the darkened halls of the master's castle, a bit of longing would always prick at her heart to go beyond the threshold of the citadels doors.

She had always wanted to see the world, a wish she had held since she was a little girl in her father's palace. Books had always placated that burning desire to only a softly glowing ember of want, but still the thoughts of traveling near and far across the realms always had a flame in her heart that could never be doused.

Sometimes she wondered where Rumpelstiltskin ambled upon his journeys to seek the desperate. He had come to her fathers palace after all which was many a league off, and with his puissant powers he could go almost anywhere that caught his fancy.

Belle sighed wistfully as she absently swept the black winding stairs that led to her master's apothecary. She often contemplated where he had acquired some of his more unusual trinkets in his collection; a gold gilded lamp, a tiny blue bag filled with some sort of dust, and a hook that looked like it was fitted to replace a hand. Where could such odd things exists?

Perhaps he would find it advantageous to take her along after he grew to trust her in a few more years or centuries; she was ageless now after all.

The chestnut haired beauty couldn't help but smile at the thought of traveling with him to the ends of the earth and back, hand in hand, traversing the sunlit realms of near and far in his rather gentlemanly companionship.

Immediately the beauty cursed herself at the sudden thoughts of him. Why couldn't she stop thinking such unlikely, inappropriate things about him! Belle sighed in defeat as she shook her head sagely, her russet curls tumbling loose from the ribbon tied behind her. Putting the dust filled broom aside for a moment, the beauty sat down upon the cold rough stone steps, her chin in one hand as she stared ponderingly down the partially dim spiraling stairway.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how careful she bolted those thoughts from entering the forefront of her mind they lurked and prowled at the dark corners of her head waiting to jump at the time when her implacable guard was lowered.

She couldn't help but think of him as more than just her master when her rambling mind chose to wander at will. To be sure they were more than master and slave now; friends perhaps, or acquaintances at the very least, but still this was not what she saw him as in her thoughts that meandered to and fro in far away day dreams when she bent to her chores.

At times she imagined appearing before him wearing nothing but one of his leather jerkins, and he would grin in that mischievous little way she was so accustomed to that warmed her like a mulled wine every time he smiled in her direction, and he would trail his fingers up along her cheek before lacing his talons in her honey brown tresses then-.

Mumbling a low black curse that would be frowned upon coming out of any noble's lady's mouth, the beauty scolded herself inwardly at falling into the cleverly placed trap her fertile imagination had conjured.

"Why is it so difficult not to think of him like that?" Belle seethed in a low hiss; her echo bouncing down along the stone spiral stairs so that the question reverberated back almost mockingly like she knew the answer.

Irritated, the beauty punched her fist into the lowest set of cold gray stone that layered the wall, thinking to take out her ire on something inanimate, only to feel the stone shift slightly under her force.

Immediately the beauty let the thoughts of Rumpel and why she couldn't get him off her mind fall away to be replaced, by a sudden flared curiosity. Her brow furrowed as her clever fingers traced across the edges of the seemingly normal stone. It looked like every other; unnoticeable and gray with a permeating cold, but it seemed almost…smooth compared to the coarse gray counterparts surrounding it.

"Odd." Belle mumbled curiously; her hands running across the edges of the stone block. The gray mortar that entombed it was fragile and fell away with a few moments of diligent work revealing a block that certainly looked like it did not fit.

Curling her fingers around the cool stone, the beauty gripped the smooth block and jerked upon it. It fell out rather cleanly revealing that it was only a partial block that weighed very little compared to the other true blocks that seemed to weigh close to a ton or more.

Dust and grit filtered up from the false stone, filling the stairs with a musty stench that set Belle into a myriad of choking coughs as the fine dust rankled through the air. As the particles of debris settled to layer upon the stairs, the beauty's azure eyes narrowed partially trying to pierce the blackness and the last remnants of disturbed dust motes.

Wood flickered in the dank lighting of the corridor telling the russet haired servant a box lay nestled in the dank secret compartment.

A brief prod of caution warned the beauty to place the stone back and walk away, but her curiosity was a blazing inferno that raged inside like some hurricane of flame devouring any logical warning and turning it into ash.

Her eyes darted about once, simply to make sure her master wasn't lingering about as he sometimes was wont to do before pulling the thick rectangular box from its sarcophagus of stone.

The rough hewn wood held a soft but faded rose colored hue that reminded the beauty of a vast sequoia tree. On the lid was carved a dark, almost as if branded in, picture of a man and what looked like to be a boy walking together.

The man in the carving seemed to be limping with a crutch while the boy walked even paced at his side. Belle didn't know why the image made a wide smile play tug at her lips, but it seemed to sweet and familiar almost as if she had seen the man in the carving before.

Her lithe fingers ran through the grooves of the images in an almost familiar fashion as she traced along the carved edges; her mind tugging at some hint of recognition. Being around the Dark One had made her senses acute to the pressing feeling of magic, but she couldn't get even a hint of any of the black magic that her master wielded.

If there was no magic to be had around the box, then must the contents inside be so important?

Sitting the box gingerly upon her lap, the beauty stared hard at what a small square with ten carved numbers each on a separate tile in the square. It looked like one of the complex puzzle games the elders of her village played. She had only been mildly good at it, but had gotten praise by all with her ability to match all the tiles in an equal balance so that all the numbers equaled the same.

Always up for a good puzzle, the servant furrowed her brow perplexingly as her nimble fingers begin to turn and twist the tile inside their tiny square.

The rather ingenious puzzle took more than an hour to crack, but Belle sighed in victorious satisfaction a superior smile marbling her lips as she dropped in the last tile into its proper niche.

A soft click emanated from inside the box like a bolt being unhinged and thick billows of churning purple vapors of magic seethed and filtered from the inside like dust from an ancient crypt, making Belle push the box aside as if it could have been bobby trapped

She had somehow unlocked it, Belle knew even as the purple haze was dissipating like smoke taken by the wind. Slowly her hands neared the rose colored box, hovering only inches above the lid, but momentarily frozen in place as if unsure about what to do next.

Inside, her curiosity was begging to be assuaged, but a vague shadow of herself screamed not to flip open the lid; to put it back and sequester it away would be the best course of action. Yet cowardice had never won the day in Belle's heart and with one jolting motion she opened the lid.

A bed of thick purple satin silk lay a the bottom of the rough hewn chest, while lying atop it was a black and gray dagger.

The blade was fine in quality the ancient steel glinting off the guttering torch light. Its hilt and pommel were ordinary make; supple dark leather that wrapped around the handle, and a stone hilt and pommel excellent for balance. Yet the most extraordinary thing about the knife was the name RUMPELSTILTSKIN forged in dark magical letters that sprawled upon the flat of the weapon.

The letters curled and wound against the blade, seemingly akin to dark vines that just so happened to form the moniker of her master.

Immediately Belle knew this was the blade the old lady had spoken to her of. The one thing to bring down the Dark One; the most powerful man in the entire world. And it was sitting right in front of her…

~8~8~

"Rumpel, dear, so glad you could make it." Regina drawled in acidic, yet honeyed pleasantries; her smirk just vaguely hiding her fury and disgust against the Dark One.

The Dark One offered the evil sorceress a wide jester like grin; one hand behind his back while the other twiddled its fingers at her in an almost childish wave. "Majesty, so nice to see you again. I hope you're fairing well with your precious little Snow White still on the lam."

The evil queen couldn't help but grimace at the cruel barb, her teal eyes flashing in her unbridled wrath that she miraculously managed to keep in check. After making her way till nearly nightfall for him to arrive, the queen was determined not to blow her little conference with the notorious Rumpelstiltskin so soon.

"Unfortunately." She spat with a hiss her lips curling distastefully. "The little wench has managed to…elude me for now. The last I heard she was holding up with some dwarves." She scoffed ubiquitously at the ridiculous rumor that was circulating the peasantry who looked upon Snow White as some sort of hero and liberator that would free them from under the surprisingly stylish stiletto heel of the evil queen.

Flicking her well manicured hand dismissingly the queen once more donned her sly smile. "But enough about me. Rumpel old friend, what have you been up to lately?" She inquired tactfully.

The fiend very nearly bragged about Belle. He wanted the high and mighty queen who thought she was the mistress of all the realms to hear how he had maneuvered a deal to get a princess to become his servant.

A part of him dearly wished to gloat that he was so powerful that even his servants were royalty in an allusion to her preened and puffed status as queen as yet another jab to her indomitable corpulent pride.

Yes, the words almost fell past his lips when he felt the tingling warning magic (the only magic he dare use near the weapon) of the chest that kept his dagger safe sear through his blood as if it were mingled with fire. His eyes widened, and for a moment the queen actually saw one thing she had never had in the Dark One - fear and absolute terror.

She had been expecting bragging and gloating and hints to his slave girl not look akin to a terrified peasant with a band of outlaws nearing his hovel.

Before she could ask the matter, the fiend disappeared in a swirling mist of lilac colored magic that stained across Regina's spells almost in an affront to her powers.

A second later Regina remained alone and motionless in the tower room wondering exactly what had happened to make the nefarious Dark One bound off as he did.

Shaking her head the queen stormed off non to happy with the occurrence. This was a new feature to consider. And as much as she hated to admit it, and she truly hated to admit it, Gaston's words from earlier had a ring of truth to them. She did not know the Dark One as well as she had once believed.

Oh how she hated it when an idiot proved her wrong!

~8~8~

Belle simply stared at the dark ornate dagger, for long moments as if it were some sort of trick. If it could do what the elder crone said it could then it had the power to slay the Dark One. It might just possess the ability to kill the most powerful man in the world; his true weakness.

A sinking feeling pooled in Belle's gut at the thought, but she immediately shook it away. Rum would never have to worry about that; she would never think of using it against him no matter what transpired between he and she.

Her hand wavered over the hilt of the blade, momentarily before on impulse, she curled her fingers over the fine studded leather hilt and raised it from it bed of silken finery solemnly.

The beauty hefted it in her hands, admiring the craftsmanship as only a merchants heir could. It was a good balance and useful even with the ornate-ness of i-.

Her thought was halted dead in place as something stormed across her like the fury of hell itself.

In an instant the Dark One towered over Belle, trails of vaporous purple magic like threatening storm clouds, still trailing from his body as he slammed her against the wall. His sharp talons curled possessively over the delicate wrist that held the dagger, squeezing almost in a vice. With a vicious jerk of his claw he forcefully yanked at her hand and wrist, making the dagger tumbled from her grasp to the floor.

The blade landed with a loud ominous clatter against the cold stone; its harsh clang seeming to linger and echo in the corridor like a first sounds of a bloody battle.

His eyes blazed with a white hot rage that made his ebony orbs almost seem to flicker with the stoked flames of Hades. His grip was akin to iron shackles that pressed tightly against the wrist that had once held the kris.

"What do you think you are doing!" Rumpel roared with a rage that closely fringed on the blind fury of a rabid beast.

"I…I…I'm sorry." Belle stammered weakly, her cerulean eyes wild with petrifaction and terror. She was frozen in place by the fury that wisped and billowed in his orbs even if he hadn't been holding her in a vice.

A low snarling hiss emanated from the Dark One at her words so faintly spoken. "Sorry? SORRY!" A savage growl burst from his lips as his other hand balled into a tight fist and slammed only a hairsbreadth from the side of Belle head, making the beauty flinch only a fraction away from the tightly clenched hand.

His strength had crunched through a layer of the stone with ease, leaving a trembling balled fist right next to her head. "Do you know what you could have done!" He screamed so loudly he seemed akin to one of the deadly storms that screeched through tiny crevices of the mountains; like the forlorn wails of all those who met a gruesome horrid fate.

Spittle flew from his thin gray lips that were curled back with a savage snarl.

With a faint twitch of the fingers the fiend brought the dagger to his curled fist making it rest neatly inside. Immediately Belle found the razor sharp blade oh so faintly brushing against the soft unprotected flesh of her throat.

"Rum…" She tried to gasp in frenzied protest, her breathing hitched in place where the dagger prowled against her porcelain flesh, but he only inched the weapon closer making her fall silent with only faint daring intermittent breaths to be heard from her.

His growl was akin to a enraged dragon awoken from a thousand years slumber early, as his face inched closer to hers. His breath was hot and scalding, and brushed against her face as if she could feel the flames inside of him flared up to an inferno. "Only one person who has known the exact whereabouts of this dagger has ever lived. Do you know it's power! Oh of course you do." He scoffed suddenly in incredulity as if the question was hypothetical. His eyes glinted in a most maniac sheen that Belle had never seen before as his rage buffeted her. "You know what it does, don't you, Dearie? Did you want to be mistress instead of slave, huh? Want to turn the tables on your master?"

"Rum I don't…" She croaked desperately, pushing the thoughts of being slashed by the dagger away to speak some sense into him.

Along with the terror that frothed inside her, the beauty was berating herself mercilessly. Why did she have to open that box, why couldn't she have simply walked away to finish her chores?

"Don't lie to me, slave." He spat caustically, but the dagger did move a fraction away from her skin. "Listen carefully now; If you're lucky you might walk away from this with only your tongue cut out! Understand?"

Belle gulped hard in fear at the all to real threat presented by the Dark One, and nodded slowly to prevent herself from being nicked on the keen edge. She had made one of the biggest mistakes since being here by opening that blasted box. Now he even alluded to killing her over the truth of the weapon. Was he so frightened of losing his powers, of losing his immortality, of death itself?

His face neared impossibly close, the fathomless dark of his eyes enrapturing her in the murky ebony blackness as the words hissed venomously out between his thin lips and clenched teeth. "If you ever, _ever, _speak of this blade to anyone I will kill you. There will never be a chance for you to leave my service now. No deal will ever be struck that allows me to let you traipse about the world with the secret of this blade."

"I-I won't say a word of the blade, Rum. I never want to harm you; I'd never use it against you." The beauty exclaimed now that the dagger had been turned away slightly. She hoped he could see the bare truth wafting in her eyes, and know that there would never be a time when she would attempt to hurt him.

"I don't believe you." He snarled simply his breathing still heavy and pervaded with his fury. She wouldn't harm him? Hah! Given half a chance everyone would try to either plunge the blade through his black heart or command him with it like he was their own personal slave. He refused to believe Belle was the exception; they were all the same, only wanting power or glory. "I DON'T BELIVE YOU!" He screamed at her again.

"Then kill me." Belle replied calmly her voice lowered from the frenzied pleading it had been only a few moments before. There was a still confidence gleaming in her eyes and a spirit that forced her body to stop quivering in terror that took the Dark One momentarily aback. "If you don't believe me, Rumpelstiltskin, then kill me."

He should, Rumpel knew explicitly. Only Bae had known about the dagger whereabouts and even he was lost from him with the secret. Now this woman…this slave had uncovered its location and knew what it did.

Killing her would have been the best option if only she weren't…Belle. Lovely, beautiful, brave Belle.

Anger and the dose of very real fear still flooded through the Dark One tingling across every nerve with electricity and making him rigid with anxiety. His body still quivered on the inside his heart leaping like a fright jack rabbit, at what could have just happened had she held that knife a moment longer.

He should kill her, her really, should. In fact every instinct in his head was screaming for her death. His weakness was bared forth into light, and that could not go unheeded. After so many long years of having it carefully sequestered away without any magic save for the warning spell that could not be detected by any other magic save his own, had finally been compromised by a curious and intelligent Belle.

The blade inched closer again, the razor fine point just tickling the now reddened skin on the cusp of spilling blood. He languidly dragged the sharpened edge to trace across her tightening throat as if toying with the blade to see just how little pressure he had to put behind it to bring up a sash of crimson and end her existence.

The fiend hoped having the dagger just a hairsbreadth away from spilling her blood would call her bluff, but surprisingly, she only tilted her head up so he could have better target to the unprotected, soft flesh; willingly giving him access to the cords of her neck to steal her life at his leisure.

A part of the Dark One even in his magnificently vile rage knew he would never be able to slash the blade through her throat and end her life. She was to precious to him even after this horrible blunder. He had to admit it, even if is seethed him to: she was another weakness. One, he knew rather plainly, he could ill afford.

With a growl of rage that was more to himself than to Belle, the fiend made the dagger dissipate in a tint of purple fog.

The beauty breathed a tremulous sigh, her shoulder slumping in eased relief that he had chosen not to slash her throat, but the action was halted with his piercing glare. "Don't, by any stretch of the imagination, think you're out of it yet, slave." He snapped.

Before Bell could say a word he was taking striding steps towards the well known room of the dungeon. She didn't dare argue, or couldn't actually, just trying to keep up with his strides as he practically dragged her along the corridors and steps with out one care if she were using all her strength just to keep up.

The door to her cell flung open with a twitch of his hand as he roughly shoved her inside. The beauty went sprawling, but managed to keep her feet as she collided with the wall with the slit thin window carved into it.

"I do suggest you get used to stone floors again, Dearie, and oh so much more because I am going to get the message through your pretty little skull you should never dare try to cross me!" He roared fiendishly.

As he slammed the door, the beauty slipped down to the floor, listening to his booming footsteps grow fainter. Her adrenalin was shot, leaving her a trembling husk that shivered more at the events that had just thundered against her than the cold enshrouding her. Pulling her knees up to her chest, Belle placed her forehead on her knees and profusely cursed herself for ever opening that box. Curiosity, of course, had always been her weakness.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Wow, that was a long chapter for me, but I hope it was worth it!_


	20. Daggers and Dust

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys rock!_

**~8~8~**

One long, bitter, and tortuous week went by for master and servant both held in mostly silent reposes against the other. Rumpelstiltskin's mood did not improve in the slightest over the shortened days of winter. In fact the longer the magical fiend brooded calamitously over the thoughts of catching Belle with the dagger curled in her fist the more his rage seemed to simmer temperately over the heat of his anger like some poisonous witches brew stewing and boiling in an ancient cauldron.

At night, his dreams frolicked with images of her smiling wickedly as she had him pinned to the stone of the castle by dark iron chains. Her malicious grin so flagrantly etched across her porcelain features so wide and sinister it made a coil of repulsion knot in his gut as she thrust the blade into his breast and pierced the middle of his rapidly pulsing heart.

He always awoke drenched in slick sweat after such harrowing nightmares, his dexterous finger hurriedly reaching for the blade for his own peace of mind that it was safe and secure at his side.

That, mingled with the frothing anger that churned inside him with out relent, made his decision invariably easy to have her locked up in the dungeons everyday; if just to make him feel secure from the terrors of night that plagued his mind so vividly.

Of course she still had her lists of chores to accomplish, but the fiend never left her in a room by her lonesome. His black unwavering eyes sat pinioned upon her bedraggled form as he prowled over her akin to some menacing shadow. His pointed finger tips constantly thrummed and glowed with a hazy pale lilac tint that told tale of dark magic always at the ready in case she did something he didn't expect.

There was no trust for her anymore, anything she did he calculated in his tactile mind; his ebony orbs searching and seeking any plot given away by her graceful movement, or any scheme unearthed by the glimmer in her sapphire eyes.

No longer was she the Belle that he had grown to banter and quip with as a welcome companion in the mire of his loneliness; a buoy amidst the treacherous sea of enshrouding quiet and sullenness. She was Belle, the conniving slave who discovered the dagger's long time hideaway, held the object of his demise and power in her delicate grip, and then after he had snatched it away had the gall and utter nerve to tell him that she would not hurt him with it! What lies women could speak!

So far, he surmised angrily, he had been much too soft on her. Allowing this, that, and the other; paltry little freedoms and specks of happiness to relieve the tediousness of her work and lot in life. What good had it done? She still hoisted the loathed dagger with heaven only knew what thoughts roaming through her sharp mind.

No, if kindness did not keep her away from things she shouldn't bother with then perhaps strict callous command would.

"Dungeon." Rumpel deadpanned simply with a hiss; his low tones grisly and grim.

His arms were crossed over his normal garish and flamboyant attire as he leaned against the threshold of one of the many doors that led to the main hall. A thin gray frown listed upon his dulled gray-gold features as he pointed a wiry finger to the direction of the dungeon.

Ever since the terrible day she had stumbled across the chest that housed the dagger, life with the Dark One had reverted almost to how she expected it the first night she had been in the dreaded castle. Loose russets curls, swathed and flecked with gritty grime, stuck against the beauty's dirt stained face. Her body was worn and tired from nights spent in tumultous slumber on the icy floor of the eternally pitch black prison that he threw her in.

Belle sighed forlornly at the harsh spat word as she finished sweeping out the last bit of dust that sprinkled on the stone floor. The dungeon was even colder than she had first once supposed it to be. Even in late winter it was akin to an ice chest and having no cloak alongside her made the beauty whole heartedly dread the cold, brusque word of 'dungeon' which detailed another night of utter shivering cold with her arms wrapped tightly against herself and arising with stiff limbs and joints from the merciless chill that pervaded her cell. Ironically, however, it was the only phrase he actually spoke against her on a daily basis, and the one that she most dreaded to hear.

Yet, Belle knew sadly, being sent to what she was rather depressingly beginning to believe would be a permanent accommodations only meant one of two things: either he was leaving, or simply couldn't be around her any longer without exploding in sheer fury all over again.

More than once she had ventured down from her little cell, after he let her out for the day, to find a trinket smashed to shards or lying cracked and mangled upon the floor plainly telling the tale of having been tossed viciously against a wall.

Not even attempting to argue the command, the beauty placed the broom to the side before walking with as much head held high dignity she could muster in the face of his still flickering temper. "When will you be-" She tired to inquire, only to have the fiend halt her with a sharp glare that spoke louder than any word could.

A low growl like an angry dogs warning rustled from his throat. His eyes narrowed to two midnight slits as he shook his head faintly. "Don't." He snapped disdainfully. For a moment he seemed he might have said more to the beauty, but he simply shut his mouth tritely. Offering only a last warning for her too be off, the fiend nudged his head to the way of the darkened corridor that led to the prison.

Sighing dejectedly, Belle shook her head before determinedly trudging up the steps that led to the 'guest room'. If he would only speak with her maybe she could explain, yet there was no passing the high walls of anger he had built up around himself to be surrounded by his fear and rage.

His onyx eyes trailed behind her until she was lost out of sight, but his magic followed her well up the lofty, dreadfully cold heights until he knew she had stepped into her cell. With a jerk of the wrist he sent the iron door slamming shut and locked, before he took his leave to depart.

Grimacing at the sudden harsh clang of her closing cell, the beauty slid down against one of the frigid walls, her head shaking almost in desperation. The sudden flare of magic that seemed to wisp out of the castle told Belle her master had departed; proving her hunch. The only questions that swirled about her thoughts now were when would he return to free her from her wretched icy prison, and when would his rage alleviate if at all…

~8~8~

High above the depravity and disparagement of men, in the lofty clouded firmament of the azure heavens, the magical fairies who upheld the tenants of good magic soared upon their gorgeous, shimmering, vibrant multihued wings of gossamer, darting to and fro like busy bees upon task for the desperate pleas of man who drudged below.

They brought good magic to the world and blessing to those mortal souls who needed them desperately as a defense against all the darkness that scurried below; seeking to devour the innocent and subdue the good.

Nova's tiny lungs burned like fire fevered inside them as she pumped her sunset colored wings frenziedly as if all the darkness ever conjured by evil was nipping at her heels. And in a way, it was.

The even tinier than normal fairy bolted and flew clumsily through the silky white clouds like a wayward flash of amber lightening sending wisps of the fluffy looking puffs swirling and curling in her wake. She almost seemed akin to a shooting star streaking across the brightly lit heavens, all the while screaming the name of the eldest of them, the most high respected and honored, Blue fairy, like a mad woman.

Nova's large almond gray eyes darted crazily about the endless sky without one elder fairy to be found. The flat plain of eternal blue was as empty as the void and doubly as lonesome as all she heard back from her strangled cries were her desperate pathetic echoes.

She had to find the Blue fairy; she had to tell her what was happening!

"Nova, what's wrong?" A familiar and stern, but not unkind voice asked gently; filling the air with the sing-song tone of the fae.

Temporary relief flooded through the clumsy fairy as she zipped around to see the matriarch of their kind floating almost regally, her startling deep sea blue wings flapping unhurriedly and in a lovely gracefulness and composure that calmed Nova slightly.

The blue fairy's features were sharp and worn as if time itself had futilely attempted to pull at her flawless flesh. She carried her wand like a scepter in the crook of her arm as she scanned Nova with her always piercing, intelligent eyes.

Gulping and swallowing down huge amounts of air, the fairy forced her heart to halt its frantic pace to relay the disastrous events clearly. "I…I went to the dwarf mines today to see Dreamy." Nova admitted shyly and almost ashamedly at the disapproving downturn of the blue fairies lips. "When I got there all the dwarves were hiding and cowering and trembling. When I asked them why they said…" She paused once, swallowing tremulously like the words where lodged in her throat; loathe to speak them as if they were a forbidden curse.

"They told you what, dear Nova?" The blue fairy inquired calmly, but there was no mistaking the edge of impatient flitting her tone.

"They say Rumpelstiltskin is in the mine pilfering fairy dust!" Nova blurted in one shocked gasp as if the words had spontaneously leapt from her mouth.

Immediately the blue fairies calm demeanor transformed from the patiently wise to a curious and frightening mix of fear, anger, and indignation. Her lips curled back in a fierce snarl as her wings shook in agitation that sprinkled a few glimmer showers of dust to drift lazily down to the mortal realm of man. "Trust Rumpelstiltskin to steal something so dangerous; so precious. That…that…thieving fiend!" The blue fairy growled in barley restrained rage. Her whole tiny body shook as she sped off like a cobalt bullet towards the mine that lay nested in the cracks of the earth.

There had only been a few instances where the Dark One had ventured down into the deepest pits of the mines that tediously sought the magic that brought good sorcery into the world of men, but each time more rage infused the good fairy at his blatant disregard for something so rare and precious.

Each grain of dust was priceless and for him to nab even a pinch had the fairy bristling in puffed anger. Not this time, she swore to herself, her jaw tightening determinedly, and large eyes narrowed to only pink pricks of blue. This time he would have to fight for his ill gotten gains!

~8~8~

A painful grimace formed upon the Dark One's face as he delicately sifted through a tiny blue silken bag of awaiting fairy dust.

The bags of good magic piled up around him sent his body into a frightful series of blotchiness and itching. Black magic that swarmed inside him clawed away at him in protest of being around its polar opposite.

A ghastly war wracked his wiry form with pain that raged inside him and all around his body that wanted to crumple in agony around the magic of good and light. For him, being around the sacks of dust and the scent of it wafting through the air was akin to him being thrown headlong in a furnace that fed off acid and churned thickly with oily black smoke.

Near insignificant specks of the dreaded dust that were to small to even be of use to the fairies seemed to burrow under his scales and scald and chaff his flesh with its blissfulness. He hated good magic, and what it caused to erupt in his body. But, he needed a pinch of it to recreate the guarding spell that had gone over the box that held the dagger.

Only the exact amount of fairy dust and a very complex incantation would make it untraceable to others who sensed or wielded magic. It was the only magic he ever dare use near the blade, and such a draining spell for such a enchantment could leave him weak for days.

A growl of satisfaction rolled out of his mouth as he nimble fingers caught the dust that felt like hot coals in-between his digits. Exactly 349 grains of the horrid dust sat amidst his pinched thumb and forefinger, the precise amount needed for the taxing spell.

With his usual sinister chortle, but heavily laced with discomfort, the fiend very carefully sprinkled the coarse despised particles of good magic in a small black coin purse. His fingers were blistered and bleeding after handling such dangerous foul powers, but it was worth it to keep the precious dagger safe from those who sought his demise.

"How dare you traverse our sacred mines you beast!" A well known and utterly loathed feminine voice screamed in outrage.

A grin marbled upon the magical monsters gray-gold features as a soft blue luminescent glow shot through the darkened mine tunnels like the first light of dawn itself. In moments the regal fairy hovered near the Dark One's gruesome features that were even more twisted by the skewed wayward flames of the mining lamps casting their harsh slanting light across his face. Her wings buzzed in righteous agitation as she clutched and brandished her wand like a sword.

Waving the small satchel at her teasingly before stuffing it into his vest pocket, the fiend uttered another devious giggle that sent the fairy's blood boiling. "Nice day for a little stroll in the mines isn't it, Dearie? Now, now, don't get your wings all in a twist; I have enough of what I need of your filthy dust. So I'll just be on my way."

"No you won't." The fairy snarled determinedly her blue essence growing brighter than normal in her wrath. "Enough is enough, you terrible monster I shall not allow you to spirit away something so precious for your black arts."

Good magic sudden swarmed through the air like a flurry of angry bees; wrapping and swathing over the evil powers of the Dark One as if choking it or attempting to subdue it like a tamer does an angry bear.

The fiend couldn't help but wince in pain as the powers of good clashed with his darkness bombarding his body and scratching like the studded leather of a whip against his flesh. A forced thin smile, vaguely veiling his agony and anger bloomed across his lips as he shook his head sagely. "Doing this the hard way I see. Goody, it's been a long time since I've had a good bout."

Noxious wisps of cloud shot out of his hand the tendrils of lilac vapors taking the vile shape of deadly ravens that clacked and cawed for blood.

Immediately the blue fairy found herself of defense as the five magical purple ravens, with crimson eyes, bolted towards her in midair; their magical knife like beaks bared and their talons tense and outstretched to strangle or claw the life out of her.

Diving low the fairy sped like flash of light trying to outrun the conjured fowls that could very well kill her even through they were made of nothing but the detested dark powers. She didn't dare look back as she twisted and turned in the dimly lit room of the fairy dust; swooping left and right, under shelves that housed the dust yet to be refined and the sharpened picks of the dwarves; using every trick she knew to dodge and outmaneuver the enchanted birds. All the while keeping her sharp glance on the crafty Dark One.

The fiend watched with a trifle of vile amusement as the frilly fairy tried to outsoar his birds of prey. She would succeed in time, he knew well, but by then he would be long gone. A small tune hummed out his throat as he cockily meandered slowly out of the room that laced his body with torture. Once in the tunnel he could easily teleport himself back home and away from the dust that stung like knives at his scaly skin.

"Oh no you don't!" The fairy screeched as she barrel rolled to her left away from the snapping beaks of the magical birds that lunged for her blue form.

Flicking her wand not at the Dark One, but at the door large treacherous spikes of good magic formed about the portal all pointing menacingly towards the fiend in dire want for him to walk into them.

Rumpel jumped back, just in time so that the magic of light only scarred deeply into his arm and ripped his swirling cloak instead of sticking him like a bug on a pin to the barricade of conjured spikes.

Black blood erupted out of his forearm at the deep gash the razor sharp spikes had torn through his flesh. Good magic dripped like acrid poison in his veins as wispy tendrils of eggshell blue hissed from the wound like steam rising into the air. With a cry of agony of the magic clashing with the darkness inside his body, the fiend fell to his knees at the shock of such blistering pain. His hand clasped over the rip in his flesh trying to stymie the flow of blood.

"Alright! Enough, you win!" The fiend cried out, through clenched teeth that held at bay his screams of utter agony.

Immediately the lavender hued ravens dissipated into smoke that drifted away with its sickly sweet essence. The ominous heavy press of Dark Magic alleviated from the room, leaving a kneeling Rumpel looking haggard and defeated.

The fairy's iridescent wings still pumped like twin shimmering pistons, as she hovered exhausted a few feet away. Even though the battle had only lasted a few moments, magic such as theirs was taxing, especially when being hurled at its natural enemy.

Her blood churned through her veins with her tiny but brave heart drumming to an explosive beat as she considered his admit to defeat. Should she trust his words? Of course nothing warranted trust from the infamous Dark One, but even she could see there was absolutely no way to fake how badly her unexpected spikes of magic had hurt him.

There he knelt in the dankness, a pitiful wretch who was doing all in his vast power not to scream in torment, his lungs bellowing with an occasional hiss of agony at the wound on his arm.

Nearing only an inch, the blue fairy's eyes searched him intently, her mind still gauging his words. "Throw over the dust and I'll let you leave." She stated regally through hard breaths; her tones plainly distrustful.

"How can I throw it to you when I'm just trying to keep my blood in my body!" He snarled in hurt like a wounded animal. He gasped once, his breath hitching weakly as blood seeped through his tightly gripped talons. "You saw where I put it, take it and allow me leave!"

The fairy paused again, her wings fluttering at a slow even pace. A look of skepticism etched the stark lines of her delicate face, but she neared harrowingly slow, her body tenses like a spring to leap away in case of trouble, and one eye strait on the pocket, while the other wary for one move from the Dark One.

His breathing was ragged and sharp as he turned his face away from her bright glow slightly bolstering the fairy's confidence. Reaching into the pocket, her miniscule hands caught the sacks rough cords right as the Dark One's hand grabbed her in midair.

His black blood dribbled unto her fine blue garments of spider silk as he griped in a vice. The black magic festering in his blood was like acid to her pale flesh as it harmed her more than his iron grip that sought to squeeze the life out of her. " Monster! You vile little liar! Free me!" She screamed as her body wriggled like a fish out of water.

A snarl of pain still furrowed his features, but there was a modicum of grim and sly satisfaction marbled across his face.

"Fairy's." He scoffed, his wicked wolfish grin looking like it might devour her in one bite. "They can't help but be trusting; such gullible dim little things."

"Not so gullible as you might believe." The blue fairy yapped before her left arm popped free of his blood slicked grip.

Rumpel had only one split second to put together the terrible mistake he made by grabbing her close and not putting his magical guard up. With one great gust of breath from the fairy a fistful of highly potent, and to him extremely toxic, fairy dust blew directly into the Dark One's face.

The fiend roared in pain and reeled back from the cloud of magic inadvertently letting the fairy free. Dust stung his onyx eyes like hot ash fresh from an inferno while some of it filtered into his mouth and nose like ground up glass wrecking havoc upon his insides as he breathed in coughing haggard breathes; desperate for air.

Blood spattered out of his mouth as he coughed and hacked the dust, his lungs tightened and eyes watered as he pawed at them with his bloody hands smearing his life's blood all over his face.

Enraged at being tricked, the fiend screamed out curse after curse against the fairy as he sent shoots of his purple magic blindly around the room. The bright streaks of lilac colored magic looked akin to a devilish lightening storm raging out upon the night.

Ducking and dodging, the fairy dismissed the conjured spike as she sped from the room like a bat out of hell. She may not have gotten the powder that he stashed away, but at least, she knew with a grisly satisfaction, she had hurt him greatly in recompense for his flagrant theft.

Barely able to catch his breath, his magic spent, blood gushing out of his arm, with his insides aflame, and half blind he knew he had to get home before the dwarves or anyone else stumbled across him in such a state of agony. With the last dredges of his fortitude, the Dark One fumbled blindly from the room that was kept under a heavy enchantment that halted all people with magic from teleporting in and out of it directly.

As he finally burst from the enchanted chamber, the darkness of the earthen tunnel made the magical monster want to sigh in relief as he fluttered his fingers weakly and vanished in a hazy stream of purple that barely illuminated the shaft before bringing it back into sheer darkness.

~8~8~

Belle shivered violently in a corner of the rough stone floor of her utterly abysmal cramped prison she was now certain was her eternal accommodations. Even though all was blind to her vision she could tell her breath wavered from her trembling lips in light vaporous clouds of mist. Her arms curled around her vainly trying to get some heart into her body. It seemed that every night tried to out-do the cold of the other attempting to drive her blood into freezing in her veins.

Unexpectedly the door to her room swooshed open, sending a warm gust of air to combat the frigid talons that held her enthralled in its world of ice. A single torch outside the door, guttered pathetically as if its tongues of flames beckoned her impatiently out of her cage. Taking the leave of mercy for what it was, the beauty scrambled as fast as her stiff frozen limbs could muster themselves into action as she practically tossed herself out of the prison.

A nauseous sickening feeling fell over Belle quite suddenly, making Goosebumps prickle her flesh that had nothing to do with the cold and a pit to form in the bottom of her gut. Her heart squeezed like a vice making her physically wince in pain. She didn't know how or why she knew what she did but she had a primal instinct Rumpel was in dire trouble.

Snatching up the torch in her trembling grip the beauty flew down the winding dark stairs two at a time, her chestnut curls billowing behind her like a war banner fluttering in the wind.

The moment her cell door had swung open Rumpel appeared in the dark main hall. His breathing came in short pointed breaths thanks to the good magic that was filtering around his lungs and attacking his insides. It wasn't lethal, but it hurt like nothing else he ever endured physically, and would take some time to heal due to its magical nature.

The best he could figure in his delirious, pain addled state was get to the safety of his citadel and let Belle out of her cell so she wouldn't be stuck starving and hopeless in the cage whilst he was recuperating for what could be days…weeks…months even, if, he even warily tread a guess, at all?

A part of him knew even if she left her icy prison she would probably run away as far as possible to be free of him. But in his frenzied estimation a runaway slave was better than the alternative of her trying to kill him in his weakened state. She might not succeeded, if she even went that course, but who knew, it was Belle after all and he had been far too callous to her of late.

His knees buckled shakily as he tried taking a step towards the door that led to the upstairs and to his apothecary. A cry of pain snapped past his clenched teeth as he clung to the large oaken table just to stay upright. His sharpened talons dug into the polished wood clawing out long streaking marks against the grain as he sought to pull himself up. With his last reserve of energy, the fiend growled in torment as he managed to get back up to his feet, only too feel his head swim in a bloody pool of dizziness that struck upon his mind in a blinding white.

The last thing he saw was Belle bursting from the side door, a torch in one hand. Her azure eyes went wide, a gasp tearing out her mouth at the no doubt gruesome, bloody sight of him barely teetering upon his feet.

A frightening thought suddenly occured to the Dark One as Belle appeared in the flickering torch light, making his blood turn to ice in terror. The dagger he so coveted, needed, and loathed was in a sheath under his vest, and he was powerless to keep it away from her hands. All theses days he had been so hard hearted to her, cruel even, swamped back in his mind with dreadful clarity.

He was going to be at her mercy and there was nothing he could do about it.

"B-b…Bel…" The fiend barely managed too choke out half her name hoarsely before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he crumpled into a blood stained heap on the floor.


	21. Triage

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, Lovelies! So, another long chapter... It would have been two chapters but for the life of me I couldn't spilt it up :X_

**~8~8~**

For one singular horrid moment, stuck amidst the eternal passages of time, Belle stood frozen in place by the gruesome scene she had stumbled upon. The beauty could only stare in a numb mind gripping horror that slashed deeply into her heart, at the limp vestige of her master lying in a glossy ebony pool that soaked into the cracks and crevices of main halls stone floor.

After all he had wrought upon her for the last week with no end of his despot rule against her in sight, the chestnut haired beauty's first natural instinct was to rush to the huge double doors and run until the castle was a nothing but a faint ominous speck on the cold horizon of a winter night. That, however, would have been cowardly, uncaring Belle, neither of which she was by any means.

No matter what he had done in his frothing fury towards her, the master who had gathered her a treasure trove of books and had crafted her a cloak with his own two hands overruled any thoughts of the fiend who dragged her through the corridors and locked her up in the frigid prison at days end. There, lying with large black splats of blood smearing his gray-gold form, she saw the kind man flecked with gore, not the harsh master.

"Rum!" His name burst from her full lips in a cry of alarm that spurred her out of her paralysis and sent her blood fevering like the fire of Hades through her veins.

The numbness melted from her body as she raced over to the still, gore ridden grotesque figure of the Dark One. She knelt in the little puddle of his warm brackish dark blood, oblivious to the fact that it sopped into the fabric of her blue dress and stained her flesh. Her delicate, but trembling hands dug into the high quality leather of his vest as she gripped at his lanky shoulders to pull him on to his back.

Between her frenzied thoughts of terror staring at the mess that washed his wiry figure and assessing his hurts, Belle's mind spun in frenzied pondering. Who could have done such damage to the most powerful man in all the realms. Who could have such power? Were they coming to finish the job? How could she protect him?

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as a grunt growled past her lips determinedly; yanking him to his back with one great heave of adrenaline infused strength that coursed through her body.

He lay as still as a fresh corpse and for one breathless moment Belle's heart paused its quaking beat. Her throat tightened in a vice as her hand neared tremulously towards his neck to feel for a pulse. Was he...

Blood suddenly spurted from the Dark One's ash pale lips, flecking them with the blots blackness of his essence that cast an even ghastlier demeanor to his gore tainted features that were furrowed with the torment and agony that suffused his very being. Sweat mingled with blood and some glimmering powder glued his straggly dirty brown hair in a gummy concoction that made it hard to see his face properly through the smears of the odd mixture that swathed and streaked his gray-gold flesh like some macabre war paint.

"Belle..." He croaked breathlessly in a strained wheeze before a groan of pain bubbled from his lips.

"Rum!" Belle echoed again; huge amounts of relief, that at least he was still drawing breath, flitting in her shaky, trepid voice. She felt the scalding sting of tears press against her azure eyes but blinked them back bravely at the weak timbre of his voice. Her hand rested against his gray-gold skinned cheek that felt smooth even though it looked rough; her thumb tracing over the scaly blotched flesh tenderly as if the gesture might ease the pain in some fashion or at least let him know in some warm way she was there. "Oh what happened to you? What do I do?"

A ragged gurgling cough bubbled from his mouth as he just faintly opened his reddened blood smeared ebony eyes weakly, vainly trying to be comprehensible even though the cold claws of darkness beckoned him back to unconsciousness. "Bel…I…dus…fae…" He swallowed dryly, even though gore tore through his throat, attempting to relate his need only to fall prey to another black out that sent him plummeting back into a world of grateful oblivion.

Her sapphire eyes searched his scarred features frantically as if he might spontaneously regain his senses again to tell her what to do for the blistering wounds. They looked like flesh and blood wounds, but she had seen him heal minor cuts and abrasions he fell prey to, along with restoring her to health when she'd come down with a horrid cold. And even if she did believe them truly material hurts that proliferated his ragged figure and tore at his flesh, the thick magic permeating and mingling the blood and his clammy skin told her they were more enchanted pains then physical gashed in his body.

The knowledge that it was indeed wounds of the mystical arts made it far worse, for she barely knew how to mend pains of bone and sinew, much less conjured injuries of wizards and magic! Yet she couldn't allow him to simply bleed out till he no longer woke from his oblivious state. Dark One or no he was her master…her friend and she had bargained to serve him to the best of her powers.

A hard grimace marbled upon her worried features determinedly as the chestnut haired beauty steeled herself while smoothly pulling back her russet tendrils of hair mingling it with his blood, in a loose ponytail to keep out of her way as she got to work. Her eyes flashed with the cold fire of a battle calm that helped steady the nerves that trembled violently within her.

Her hands only mildly shook as they ventured to loose the blood slick buttons to his dark brocade vest to have better access to his torso and gashed arm. Fortunately, it was clear that he had sustained little to no damage below the waist, of that she thanked whatever deity came to mind for such small mercies. She was barely comfortable with stripping him of his shirt even in a harrowing emergency.

Practically ripping open his jerkin her eyes widened in surprise not to see the blotched redness of his oddly hued skin, but the dagger securely strapped to his flesh by a leather harness that laid flush against his form.

The blasted thing that had started it all. Belle felt more than a little hate rise against the ominous inanimate object that had Rum's name scrawled upon it. A part of her was suddenly on her guard wondering if it was all just an elaborate plot to see if she would dare pick the foul dagger up again. Could he be so paranoid about the blade that held his will and life at the very tip of its keen point? Well, if it was a test it was one she failed miserably, she knew rather clearly. Come what may in the aftermath, she had to get it off of him, even if it spelled her doom.

Her hands fumbled for the clasps to the leather sheath that held the dagger in place to his faintly moving chest. She wasted no time in yanking it free and hefting the cold steel in her blood stain palms.

His naked chest was bared before her looking akin to an ancient pagan sacrifice lying before her, as if beckoning to plunge the steel into his heart in a black ritual. A soft soothing voice from the blade curled about her mind, with talons conjured of smoke tempting her with low honeyed words to finish what had been done upon him; to pluck up his power where he had failed to do the nefarious gifts justice and drink the sweet wine of dark magic as his heart stopped its beat and she greedily grabbed the control.

In her minds eye she could see the name etched upon the dagger wisp away as smoke to the wind for her name to be branded in its razor sharp steel with the fire of the dark puissant magic's.

Belle paused for a moment, her breathing intrepid as she stared at the bare flesh, her eyes pinioned on the small area where the heart laid beating in its slow tattoo of flitting life. The prodding intensified from a dull coaxing whisper to a crashing roar that would have put the waves in a gale to shame as she sat staring at his faintly rising torso.

Almost with out a thought the dagger came plunging down; its steel flashing in the sparse light of the room seemingly akin to a devils approving glare.

The daggers sharp edges easily slashed through the remaining leather straps bound to his body along with his dark dragon hide cloak to help make bandages for his hurts.

After that was accomplished the beauty laid the dagger down solemnly on the other side of the magical monsters body, not giving the disturbing pressing thought another speck of her time as she assessed the damage. She would have time to considered and mull over the press of the dagger on her mind, but for now she had a patient to care for.

With the vest gone, the beauty could finally get a picture of the damage around the fiend's bulk. It looked as if only his left arm was hurt with nothing lethal she could see around his heart. But that was just on the outside; what she would or could do about the internal was a completely different matter.

A grim frown curled at her lips as she forced herself not to concentrate on that part before she had to face it; there were to many trouble she had to get to now than worrying over what would come later.

Instead of wringing her hands about what was to come, the beauty busied herself trying to figure out the best way to bandage the ripped tear in the fiends forearm. She was no healer, but being so long entrenched in war with the ogres had made it a necessity to learn a few methods of the healing arts to help in any way she could with the so many wounded that came back from the field of battle.

"Hang on, Rum, I'll be back soon." The beauty promised in a low whisper as she dashed off; her bloodied dress swirling around her ankles as she tore through the darkened halls and headed towards the kitchen like a mad woman.

She was soon back armed with a few make due implements of a white ceramic basin, a dusty bottle of wine that seemed as if it had sat nestled in the same cool corner for all eternity, and a pitcher of water all held clumsily in her grasp as she staggered back towards the unconscious Dark One.

Uncorking the fine wine bottle with her teeth, the beauty sloshed a good dose on one of the strips of cloak she had massacred before slapping it on the wound as an antiseptic to hopefully cleanse the gashed flesh and prevent deadly infection as well as she could.

An ironic frown hinted at her lips as she realized it was probably a good thing he was knocked out. The pain of the fiery alcohol hitting his flesh would have surely made him roar with the ferocity of his infamous namesake of beast.

Black blood mixed with the crimson dredges of wine mingled indiscriminately; spotting and seeping into Belle's dress without regard as she flushed the wound thoroughly twice with the intoxicating liquid. The laps of cool wine hit his flesh like water dousing a blazing wood fire as it inadvertently washed the loathed poisonous fairy dust off his skin; relieving some of the pain that gnawed and gnashed at his arm.

Her clever hands immediately bandaged up the wound neatly, with scraps of his newly decimated cloak, after it had been cleaned and washed; leaving only a tightly tied black wrap that had thankfully stopped the flow of his blood to only an intermittent trickle.

Pouring the clay pitcher of water into the basin, the beauty dipped another scrap of the ruined garb into it to wipe his face clean of the hideous gore marred across his skin scaly features. The caressing cool waters banished the mine dirt and dazzling fairy dust mingled blood and sweat from his pained features, hopefully, Belle prayed fervently, helping relive what little pain the gesture could.

Inside the prone figure of the Dark One, amidst the fathomless blackness of his ancient mind, Rumpel hovered in space, drifting aimlessly in his stupor as pictures and images blending together in a deafening blinding blur that swirled about him without relief. His arms pathetically covered his head trying to defy the sound and noise that enshrouded him and bombarded his small, frail body with accusations and regrets that bit into him worse than the fangs of rabid wolves.

No matter what he did or tried there was no escaping it; no waking from the nightmare that scarred and clawed at him possessively to annihilate and devour him. Was he dead? Had Belle found the blade and decided to be rid of her cruel master sending him into this voided realm of eternal agony with only harsh painful memories as his unwanted companions?

The cool feel of water suddenly jolted him from his nightmarish reprieve, making the pictures dissipated like tendrils of mist against the hot summer sun. He felt the cold tingling sensation of water droplets brooking across his face momentarily reeling him in back to the land of consciousness like a kind child leads a blind man.

"Thank heaven!" Belle cried joyously as the fiend's onyx eyes wrenched open slowly.

Inside his body was still afire with the motes of good magic attacking him internally even though his arm was only in a throbbing agony instead of the gripping torment that it had once been.

He had to get relief and purge the particles of magical dust from his body before they caused irreparable harm inside of him. "A…apothet…" The Dark One tried to speak only to have his panicked words slurred and half hearted as they spattered weakly from his mouth. His tongue refused to work of its on volition and foggy vagueness wafted around his head with every dulled throbbing pain that beat in him like the steady rhythm of a war drum.

"Your apothecary? Is that what you mean?" Belle inquired desperately; her lovely sapphire eyes searching him intently, wanting any hint of what to do next.

Rum nodded weakly, his head faintly dipping a small fraction to show his agreement. Even with that small weak gesture a nauseating bout of vertigo clamped down upon him sending more pain reeling through his wracked figure. His eyes blurred in torment as he felt the blackness that desired to torture him grab a hold of his faltering consciousness once more.

With its claws dragging him down he forced himself to battle against the press for sweet oblivion for just a few moments longer. "B-blue…bottle…second shel…" He whimpered hoarsely before his words trailed off again as his weakness submitted to the enveloping darkness that greedily devoured him once more.

"Blue bottle, second shelf." Belle repeated resolutely, putting the last word together quickly. Hope filtered into her, casting out the desperation that tinted her spirit since he had arrived broken and bloodied. Here was hope he had lain before her, and that was all she needed.

Her blood coated hands hitched up the edges of her dress as she raced with all her willpower up the ominous level of winding stairs that led to the secret apothecary she was rarely allowed to enter.

Mulled, softly glowing torches guttered lazily about the apothecary as Belle swooped in like the breath of life itself on her zealous mission for the blue bottle. The flames swirled and danced at the sudden gust of air from the outside casting the odd oval room into curious shadows that played along the stone walls.

Potions and foul liquid regents of all kinds and colors danced in the shimmering light, each more unique than the last. Purples, pinks, reds, and greens, all swirled in their appointed vials in a menagerie of colors as if gently crying to be plucked up and used. But Belle knew what she was searching for as she timidly traversed the dim work room of her master, her hands clasped together in trepidation of touching or spilling a thing.

Blue bottle on second shelf was what he had murmured before passing out again. Her only hope was that there weren't too many blue bottles lying upon second shelves to pick from. Heaven only knew the last thing she needed was to grab the wrong potion that would do who knew what!

A wavy blue, looking akin to water twinkling with light, caught the corner of chestnut haired beauty's eye as she looked wide eyed upon one large shelf that housed strange ingredient for his elixirs and concoctions.

The bottle was plain and stood on a low squat shelf with thankfully only three shelves so it was easy to know which self he meant. Syrupy cerulean liquid swilled in the crystal casement really almost too thick to be actually called a liquid substance any longer but more akin to gummy slime.

Taking one more turn around the room to make certain that it as the only blue bottle on a second shelf (and thankfully it was) Belle ducked out of the room once more with the speed of frightened deer; the vial of precious liquid sloshing crazily in her hand.

The beauty practically slammed to her knees as she knelt beside the Dark One. His chest still heaved far to slowly for her liking where sometimes she actually had to look intently just to see if he was drawing breath at all. He was laying there helpless, unprotected, and weak and though she would never admit it that scared her more than anything ever had in her life.

"Please let this work." Belle murmured pleadingly under her breath to any deity that might have pity of the Dark One as she pulled out the glass stopper to the vial of slimy blue gunk.

Her finger tips tremulously brushed against his gray lips warily before she opened his mouth to dump the magical substance down his throat. The molasses like liquid oozed down his esophagus at an agonizing pace, but Belle forced herself to make certain every last drop was drained from the bottle no matter how long it took.

When finally the last azure drop hit his lips, the beauty sighed as she put the bottle carefully aside. A shaky sigh meandered from her lips as she let out a gusty breath. Well that was it, all she knew how to do had been done; the only thing left was to see he rested not to uncomfortably on the rough, hard, chilled stone until she saw any sort of progress.

A frown directed at her own self etched across her features as she leaned against one of the table legs to help keep herself upright. A blood stained hand ran through her tresses of honey dark brown curls, splashing her figure with even more gore, but she didn't give it a thought.

Her body was trembling in high stung nerves mingled with exhaustion, but she refused the temping press of slumber that beckoned her with the pleasant thoughts of her old bed in the servant's quarters or even the master's chair in front of the blazing hearth.

Even though she had bandaged the arm wound, cleaned the sparkling diamond like dust off most of his exposed flesh, which seemed to aid the natural gray-gold hue to come back to his skin, and poured the potion down his throat, she still couldn't help but feel all too helpless and want to do so much more than simply staring at his crumpled, slowly breathing body.

Now that the worst, or so she desperately hoped, was over, the beauty felt a hard lump form, wanting to take her breath away as it hitched in her throat. Belle stoically blinked back a heavy flood of hot tears that pressed determinedly in her watery azure eyes as she tenderly brushed the few blood gummed strands of dirty brown hair she had missed away from his cheek.

"You know I don't like to complain, Rumpelstiltskin, but if you die I will be most displeased with you." She breathed hollowly in a paltry, mirthless, laugh at the stupidity of the desperate statement. A small shallow smile marbled tremulously across her lips but departed as quickly as it came. Her hands curled possessively over his limp talons, in some silly way to try to let him know that she was there as she squeezed his claw tightly with all her power and put it to her cheek tenderly. "Please don't die, Rum, please."

Never in all her life had she felt so moved with someone close to death. In war time, as it had nearly always been in Belle's life, death was common, and even the most tender of heart and loving of souls grew calloused to it in one way or another if just to save their hearts from all out bursting at the crumpling humanity.

But with him lying there, prone and weak, she couldn't help but feel as though her very soul and heart were being shredded and decimated into little particles of nothingness that would easily float upon a gentle breeze never to be seen again.

And suddenly it clicked inside her like a puzzle finally placing the last piece in order or a lock finding the right key to open a chest of the unknown, revealing what had so long eluded her. It was the oddest time for it to happen and defiantly the worst place for the truth to hit her, but Belle finally realized with out one shadow of a doubt…she loved him. She loved the Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin her master, her captor, the beast that prowled all the realms bringing despair in his wake and trouble that herald before him.

She _loved _Rumpelstiltskin. The fact made her pause as the words resounded and reverberated in her mind in shocked echoes at froze her.

At that one moment, Belle didn't know whether to cry or laugh as her heart burst with the knowledge so long denied and hidden away in the cracks of her soul now flagrantly presented and free to encompass all her mind with that singular word - love.

Her hand recoiled away from him at the startling realization that struck her more like a flash of lightening than a sudden truth. She had always read about love, but never had she known it could sneak up upon a soul with the craftiness of a master thief; not making itself announced until it had cultivated and grown into something beautiful that couldn't be shut out or removed when its blooms blosommed even if it wanted to be.

For a moment all she did was look at him, her hand still slick and crusted with his blood, curled against her chest as her cerulean eyes sat stapled to him as if trying to look past the gray-gold flesh. She loved him, and even though all the world might gape at her aghast, or shun her for it for such a harrowing blatant admittance, the beauty felt no regret and no shame that this was the man who had inadvertently won, or more to his nature, stolen her heart.

He had claimed her heart as his own as much as he had claimed her body in the deal struck to save her people. He didn't know it, and she only realized it then, but he owned more of her than he or she ever thought.

Slowly, her hand unfurled back to his fevered, blood flecked cheek, her finger tips just whispering over his skin as if the faintest of touches would wake him from his delirium. Her deft fingers traced across the clammy flesh and this time, when the thoughts of love branded across her soul and roared from her spirit like a battle cry, she did not pull away.

~8~8~

Rum awakened with the noon winter sun filtering pathetically into the main hall, warming the room very faintly with its lack luster rays that try as valiantly as it might, couldn't penetrate the cold, snow covered earth still held in thrall by winters chains.

A grunt blubbered out of his mouth as his eyes squinted hard at the sparse light and he attempted to sit up all the while his mind tried to figure out what had happened. Pain exploded in his arm when he tried to put pressure on it making the nefarious Dark One howl in pain like the beast that others so hatefully termed him as.

Falling back he found someone hand lain a pillow under his head, and covered him with something rather warm. His breath came out in sharp almost panicked gasps as he sought to figure out what was happening.

He vaguely remembered the fight with the Blue fairy and the horrid dust she spewed in his face then everything mixed into one big blur that he wasn't sure what memory began and a new ended.

Flashes of warm chestnut curls swarmed in his memory, with Belle's cries resounding in his ears dully and her light touch on his cheek. He recalled something disgusting oozing past his lips and traversing his throat and feeling a little relief as it attacked the motes of good magic and disintegrated them.

After all he had done to her had she truly mended his hurts and not run, or was she only helping him heal for another devious purpose? His heart fluttered weakly at the thought of the dagger that he knew was no longer strapped to his chest. Where was it? Had she only restored him to health so she could use him like a puppet or worse?

"Rum!" Belle's lovely voice cried his name in relief, momentarily making the Dark One halt his thoughts of the blade as she appeared. "You're finally awake!"

Dark circles traced under her icy azure eyes, her russet tresses were wayward and wild, and a completely bedraggled aura echoed about her as if she had labored without rest, but her eyes, so glimmering with joy, seemed to take any weariness away from her exhausted form.

She must have heard his cry of pain, Rumpel surmised tritely as he watched her race to his side dutifully.

The beauty knelt beside him, her hand curling about his shoulders gently in a firm reassuring touch. "Here, let me help you sit up."

Another grunt of pain and foggy delirium whipped across his head, but he managed to stay aright this time without any pressure on his wounded limb. As he rose up he found that his chest was bare but she draped her own enchanted cloak over him to shield away the cold from the castle floor.

His arm was bandaged neatly with black strips that look familiarly like his ragged dragon hide cloak, with only a faint splotch of blood crusted upon it, showing delicate care of his gash.

On one side of him the dagger lay wrapped in a strip of his, he was now certain of, ruined cloak, far away from Belle, untouched and not given one thought about by his slave. A bit of shame welled in him that he would even think she would have done something so vile as heal him only to use it against him. He was the monster, not she.

"How long was I out?" He grunted coarsely sending an agonizing rattling pain through his weak body.

Belle heaved her shoulders faintly in a shrug as she snatched up a bowl of water she had kept on hand. "Four days approximately." She revealed as she put the water up to his thin cracked lips.

Four days! He wanted to echo the number back in shock, but the beauty pressed the sweet water to his lips, brooking no way to reply. The fiend gulped down the water ravenously to let it cool his fevered insides and quench his indomitable thirst. A slightly bitter after taste followed as he finished off the refreshing liquid letting him know clearly she had laced something in it.

"Did you put something in that?" He inquired weakly, yet noticing the soreness had alleviated from his throat and he felt a little stronger.

A tint of crimson hinted at Belle cheeks as she nodded abashedly. "Forgive me, I ventured into your apothecary again to try and find anything else that would help, and I came upon this." She hefted a small vial with a faded brown label that read 'Healing Potion' scrawled in his hard to read script.

"You did well." He commended sagasciously; his tones just a hint stronger as the last dregs of the potion went to work mending the hurts the good magic had unrelentingly buffeted him with.

Belle involuntarily flushed with a bit of pride and a touch of easiness returning to her finally at his words. Not even 15 minutes being awake and he was already sounding like normal Rum ready to strike a few bargains with the desperate.

Knowing he was going to be back in full health in no time a tiresome yawn escaped her lips before she could suppress it in front of her insipid master.

The utterly exhausted yawn was not overlooked by the still sharp Dark One who never missed a move even in his weakness. Perching his brow faintly, the fiend's ebony orbs looked the beauty over again harder, seeing something else just under the surface of her fair flesh. "When's the last time you slept these four days?" He asked curiously as he shifted a bit to get more comfortable upon the stone.

"I've caught a little rest." Belle dodged tactfully as she rechecked the wound on his arm expertly; forcing herself not to meet his gaze to see the real truth. If by 'caught a little rest' she meant nearly falling asleep three times on her feet then it was the complete truth, yet she knew that wasn't what he meant.

"You're still a terrible liar, Dearie." Rum commented with a wry smirk. His usual giggle rumbled out of his throat intrepidly almost as proof of his gaining strength. "I'm awake now and I can feel my latent powers gathering. I'll be fine. You, however, need to get some sleep."

Belle opened her mouth, sternly about to protest to her charge, when he shook his head slowly with only a mild fit of vertigo. "I'm not asking, Belle. Go." He commanded gently.

"Very well." She hissed in agitation, but the fiend could sense the deep thankfulness just vaguely hidden behind the displeasure in her voice.

As she staggered away, the magical monster sighed heartily feeling twice as strong as he had when he'd first awoken. Magic flickered greedily at his talons as he beckoned the dark forces to his will, but he still needed a moment to gather his power, leaving him time to think and mull over a few gently prodding thoughts.

Belle hadn't chosen to run, which was very surprising after how badly he had treated her for those days after she had stumbled upon the chest that sequestered the precious yet despised blade away from the world. His midnight glance slightly shifted to the blade swaddled up by his side, as his thoughts deepened troublingly about the magical weapon and his servant. Nor did she choose to use the blades powers to destroy or control him which would have been extremely simple given his frail condition.

Could her words have been true those long nights ago? She wouldn't hurt him?

Grimly, he knew with an explicit clarity, she had every opportunity to do whatever she desired and yet she had done nothing but tend to his wounds and look after him relentlessly not sleeping, and he ventured to surmise, barely eating. Instead of running, she'd chosen to remain a slave, instead of thrusting the blade through his chest she had chosen to be a faithful servant, instead of being uncaring in hopes he would die upon the stone floor like a wounded dog, she had tended him.

He stood at the threshold of death and yet she had barred the way even though he far from deserved to be saved. There was a debt now between him and her; a heavy debt in blood that he had to pay to her for her loyal actions.

A sharp ironic laugh barked harshly from his lips as he realized, he, the Dark One, was now in a blood-debt to the woman he had treated so unkindly. It seemed that no matter how much he fought it, protected himself or tried to push her away Belle was going to have a part of him whether he liked it or not.

Banishing the thoughts away for a moment the magical monster let the black powers unfurl from his hand like a churning purple storm cloud focusing on the pains and wounds of the detestable good magic. Purple mist curled about his wounded arm, knitting the flesh together neatly without even a scar to tell there had even been an injury. Even though the magical aspect of the wound beneath the skin still throbbed in torment it would heal in time and rest.

Strength suffused his limbs one more and banished the last remnants of the good dust, as he breathed clearer than he had in days; sucking in the fresh scent of the Dark Castle in one long draught. The taint of the good magic had been purged leaving him feeling much like he old self, and strangely even better than he had in a long time.

With a devious chortle he leapt up nimbly stretching his sore bulk before snatching up his vest. A few dried blood stains flecked the supple black leather, but it had obviously tried to have been cleaned and was folded neatly by his side.

His dexterous claws smoothed over the jerkin curiously as his brow furrowed; staring at the stains that had been attempted to wash off, but had stuck engrained upon the garment for all time. It was odd, but he felt a strange warmth pool inside him just looking at the cleaned garb. Trust Belle to even do the little insignificant things like this. Such gestures of tenderness and caring always took him by surprise and made a tenuous smile involuntarily prick at his lips.

The magical monster pulled the vest on in one smooth motion his nimble talons snapping the button in their holes as he set off to his apothecary for a few little doses of his elixirs to put him back into full strength.

Strolling in a favorable mood, even though his mind was concocting a host of devious plots to get sweet revenge on the Blue Fairy, the infamous Dark One crossed the door that led to the dungeons. The door was swung agape on its rusted hinges letting a frigid draft whisk through the Dark Castle in its chilling breath of must and decay.

As he walked past it, he paused before taking a half step back in sudden curiosity. The faint guttering luminance of a torch flickered forlornly up the dim winding stairway like a lighthouse beacon on the coast casting the stone walls in dirt smeared light.

His brow arched ponderously as he spryly traversed up the stairs to see what was going on and who could have ventured up into the dungeon. Could some one have sneaked in while his powers were waned by the toxic dust?

His fears instantly abated as he saw Belle fast asleep on the hard cold stone steps, almost making it to the squalid cell she fitfully rested in, but far to tired for even such a simple thing; blatantly showing her fatigue. When he ordered her to get some rest, he had meant her usual room, but still she remained strict to his so cruelly spoken orders.

An endearing, soft grin splayed across his features as he neared her slowly heaving body. How dare he condemn her to such squalor as a dungeon! He cursed his temper profusely as he inched closer to lift her from the uncomfortable stairs. The magical fiend easily scooped her up in his arms gently without causing her to stir, even though his wounded appendage was screaming in pain.

She fit wonderfully in his arms as if she were made to be nestled in them. Her head dipped right under his chin; involuntarily cuddling against him to stave off the chill.

The fiends, heart paused it's rapid throbbing as she curled closer to his body, her lovely fragrance of honeysuckle wafting pleasantly around his face as wispy tendril of her chestnut mane tickled faintly against his skin.

The beauty didn't stir once as he carefully tramped down the stairs with his precious cargo. For an instance he almost put her in the servant quarters where she had long contentedly called the small chamber home, but immediately shook the thought away. Such a room would not do for someone he now owed his life to.

Delicately he turned to the direction of the second tier of his castle where the elegant rooms lined the halls with greater luxury than even a king's palace. With a few strong strides the fiend entered a lovely chamber that he hoped would suit Belle's taste.

It was a large room with two large windows covered by thick dark blue drapes; the walls were desirably painted in a sky blue that reminded one of a clear summer sky. The bed spread out in a large length and width, covered with finely sewed sheets of red silk along with a heavy pinwheel stitched woolen blanket that would stalwartly defy the iciest drafts that filtered through the Dark Castle.

The fiend laid her upon the goose down mattress tenderly like a fragile treasure he laid upon one of his plush pedestals. Never once did she stir from her deep well needed slumber, which he was much grateful for. Another rare, soft, endearing grin bloomed across his face as he knocked a strand of her russet curls away from her tired features.

She had saved, spared and tended to his life, something he thought another would ever do for him, especially someone he had brought into slavery. And yet there she laid before him, unique, lovely, one of a kind in every sense of the word.

"Thank you." He whispered tenderly; his voice hoarse with every inch of emotion that strained in his soul.

A heavy desire to suddenly caress his mouth against her lovely pink lips came upon him so strong he had to grab the woolen cover to keep from actually doing so. He didn't know what such feelings fired so zealously through his body, but he knew they were new and different and dangerous. Yet ironically he couldn't have cared less how dangerous they were only that they were warm and wonderful and all centered on the woman that lay before him.

Bowing deeply to her once in great respect, even though she was lost in a world of peaceful slumber, the fiend turned away and padded back to the door with a subtlety akin to a shadow; Belle running tirelessly through his every thought and step along with the feelings he could no longer keep tucked away in the recesses of his heart.


	22. Debt

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing you wonderful, awsome people! :3_

**~8~8~**

Trickling golden shafts of late noontide sun beamed pleasantly through the awning windows of Belle's new accommodations in the Dark Castle. A few drifting particles of the gauzy layer of dust that spread about the unused room meandered playfully in the rays before settling back languidly unto the beautiful objects that dotted the lovely chamber.

Belle's face scrunched minutely against the fading flaxen sheen of day as she nestled deeper under the thick finely woven blanket draped over her for more warmth. Inside her sharp mind, though currently mussed with the delirium of slumber, she knew a few things were off about the pleasant feelings enshrouded about her.

Soft linens that felt plush and expertly tailored were patterned under her to cover a spectacular mattress that was more akin to a delightfully puffy cloud than mere stitched wool and down, instead of a grainy cold stone cell floor. Light with a hard fought modicum of warmth that battle tenaciously against the greedy hoarding clutches of old man winter washed over face; a far different feel than the biting eternal darkness of her prison that seemed to envelope even the most hardiest of torch flames in it black shrouds of despair to snuff them out with the press of voided darkness.

A large smile slowly crossed her lovely features as she fancifully toyed with the prospect that Rum had magicked her into her tiny chamber in the servants quarters, hopefully detailing she would no longer have to reside in the fetid dungeon.

The wondrous thought of having no more frigid nights curled up forlornly in an empty wretched cage with a few curious, bloated, skittering rats for companions bolstered the beauty's already vivacious mood that sent her spirits soaring into a crescendo of joviality that jolted through her lithe form.

Rum was safe and well, she no longer dwelled in her cage of cold stone that was akin to a moldy crypt, and there were no emergencies of magic or flesh to combat. Could there be a better way to start a morning, Belle mused gaily as she began to shift from under the thick cocoon of blankets that repressed the stinging cold that fought hard to rake across her warm flesh.

Her indigo eyes fluttered open lazily to greet the, supposedly, morning sun that cast its shine upon her porcelain flesh, and turned her light maple curls into a glossy amber honey tint only to find, rather surprisingly, it wasn't her room in the servants quarters.

Thick dark blue drapes that barely brushed easily against the floor were pulled back to allow the rays of the golden orb to filter into the room; drenching it in light. A large mahogany wardrobe with winding tarnished bronzed handles hammered and smelted to look akin to antlers stood stoically at the back of the large room. Bucolic images of woodland creatures carousing about shaded glades was carved with the greatest of skill along the wardrobe with majestic stags that leapt through coppices of pines looking as if they had been molded tenderly from the wood and not hewn with knife and chisel.

One of it's thick doors were yawned open to display that her few dresses and other small items Rumpel donated to her the few weeks after she had sold herself to him, had been relocated to the extravagant chamber that was far more suited for a queen or empress than a lowly slave girl.

Her eyes narrowed and delicate brow knit furtively in mild confusion as she slowly sat up on her elbows in the luxurious bed laden with expensive silks and fine wool all crumpled and wrinkled from a heavy nights wonderfully oblivious slumber.

A hand combed through her maple tresses as she slowly swiveled her head about the elegant room, wondering what was going on. Rumpel must have had something to do with having her end up here; she thought pointedly as her azure gaze drifted around the room, even though she couldn't imagine why he'd place her in such a lovely stay such as this.

Peeling the fine covers away carefully, the beauty slipped out of the soft bed quietly as if she had been caught somewhere she didn't belong.

Slipping on her blue shoes to keep from walking bare upon the chilled stone, Belle looked about cautiously, her keen eyes scanning the expanse of the ornate chamber intently as if he might have stormed in at any moment wondering what she was doing sliding out of a fine bed as easy as she pleased.

Even though she was confident she had been staggering up her way to her little squalid cell of ice and gripping darkness, one might never know in a place such as the Dark Castle. Admittedly, she had been dead on her feet, barely putting one leg in front of the other when she had plodded up the dim winding staircase to the well known dungeons. She didn't even remember getting to her cell, but her mind going blank in a harsh darkness of uncomfortable stone and cold as fatigue swelled over and vanquished her fortitude in a wave of sheer exhaustion.

What if she had made a terrible mistake in her sleep craving state and wandered into the room in search of a soft, warm place to lay her head?

A grimace tugged at her lips as she could picture Rumpel now if that what had truly occurred, shaking his head disapprovingly with that amused little smirk etched upon his sly features as he probably made some quip about her spoiled princess personality starting to surface inside. The clothes were most likely for the effect to mock her rather stupid jumble in her sleep deprived state.

Even at the thought, Belle's cheeks flushed bright with embarrassment that made her want to deny any jesting or serious claim that she was a pampered gilded princess who secretly craved the extravagant.

Shaking her head slightly as if trying to rid her of the vainglorious consideration, the beauty decided plainly she would never allow her master to think that of her.

With a few strong strides towards the huge double window, Belle grabbed the heavy velvet curtains about to swing them close then make up the bed in it's usual neatness without one hint she had even stayed a night in the well furnished chamber when she caught a glimpse of the suns position in the cloudless expanse of the crisp late winter sky.

The fiery orb of day was well past its zenith and looming closer towards alighting the firmament in its crimson hues that heralded the waxing night. It was settling in its usual perch behind the mountains to the west in the first faint signs of dusk, rather than rising from the maw of the jagged peaks in the east.

Her jaw hung limply, swinging in dull shock, even as the slants of slowly fading light tapered across her wide eyed features as testament she wasn't imagining it. Just how long had she been asleep?

It was a little later than noon when Rum had finally resurged from his prone unwitting reprieve of darkness from his injuries, but she knew, just by the sheer refreshed feeling that culminated over her, she had been sleeping far longer than a few scant hours. Had she slept an entire day in recompense from her four day relentless tending of her master; not tending to her duties, but instead snoring the hours away in a plush comfortable bed like some spoilt noble brat?

If that truly were the case, and she wished desperately it wasn't, Rum was going to be less than pleased; even if he might make a teasing quip or two.

A wary frown pulled at the edges of her lips as she hastily made up the bed with the neatness of an expert servant in hopes if she left the room seemingly clear of her presence perhaps he wouldn't be overly cross with her. One could only hope and pray silently to the deities, of course that would be the outcome.

Making a quick overlook of the chamber to be certain she left nothing with any give away she had ever slept in the room, save the clothes tucked away inside the wardrobe, the beauty let a smooth deep breath brook past her lips as she dutifully exited the room and began a slower than normal trek down the stairs, mentally preparing for the worst of his smirking quips and observances about her blunder.

The only sound she could hear as she drew nearer to the main hall was the familiar slowly creak of his wheel cycling in an even paced tempo as if keeping rhythm to some mournful little ditty only her master could hear.

A brief sigh of faint relief echoed quietly from the beauty as she leaned upon the cool wall just outside the main hall. He was spinning, meaning he was at ease and lost in his ponderous thought as he became enthrall by the wheel's hypnotic turn. Perhaps, there was a small hope he would be lenient on what was probably her sleep seized lack of judgment.

Emboldened slightly by the steady noise from the magical spinner's wheel, Belle sucked in a deep steadying breath before plunging headlong to face her master.

The noise halted immediately as she entered the main hall. Fading dusk was streaking across the sky and casting the room in warm shadow that mottled against the gray stone to conjure their forlorn demure colors of dreary gray to fanciful hues of oranges and ruby.

Surprisingly, and more to a little of the chestnut haired beauty's dismay, he was not sitting at his spinners bench, but only absently, rather laconically in fact, turning the wheel with one of his free spindly talons. The other, his injured arm, was cast in a faded gray sling that clashed horribly with his leather harlequin attire of flaring burgundies and mulled ochre.

Besides for a few still visible scrapes and bruises sported liberaly here and there over his gray-gold skin, along with the cast to tell tale of his injuries, he looked a perfect picture of health, which Belle had no doubt that he was.

His eyes sat stapled ponderously in deep thought as he looked out of the clean windows that let the last rays of light come blazing through the main hall. His ebony eyes glimmered like two faceted onyx diamonds set deeply upon his precocious features as the sheen of sunset glanced off them, inadvertently making Belle's heart skip a beat at their dark brilliance.

The reprieved image of the Dark One dissipated with frightening alacrity as she only just caught a flashing glimpse of the deeper, ancient man beneath the gray-gold skin who seemed so, so entrenched in the mire of despair that only a weak hand pleading for a faint hope was left clawing at the surface of darkness.

"Well, well, look who's finally come up with the setting of the sun!" The Dark One remarked giddily in his usual sociopath chortle that most others found rather spine tingling and disturbing, but not Belle who believed it endearing being that it usually made her break into a gentle grin.

The magical fiend instantly smothered the man hidden deep within his soul as if it had never been but a ghost of some bygone era.

A dark crimson bloomed to her heated cheeks as she blushed deeply in reply; his captivating look of tired, disparaging thought momentarily forgotten. "I'm so sorry. I took advantage of your kind command that I find rest. I'll head off to the kitchen right away and make us a late supper." She offered mildly, hoping that might balm some of the impertinent knowledge that she had done nothing but sleep the day away, and had not been where she should have at that.

"Don't trouble yourself over it tonight." The fiend stated carelessly as he flourished his wiry claws through the warm air.

Lilac tinted smoke churned and swirled around the middle of the large oaken table before conjuring a small make due meal along with their usual item of tea tray laden with its normal burden of blue and white ceramic kettle that hissed with wispy tendril of fragrant steam and their two matching cups that accompanied every meal.

Proffering a hand to the spread graciously, the fiend grinned warmly at the beauty as they both strode to the table.

Scooping up a few plump conjured grapes that rested upon the table, Rum popped them into his mouth one by one, his thin gray grin never flitting from his lips. "Enjoying your new accommodations I hope, Dearie." He stated through a mouthful of fleshy grapes that stained dark lilac along with one wayward rivulet of juice that brooked down the side of his lips.

So it had been him, Belle thought with copious amounts of relief that brooked through the body. Another flame of embarrassment involuntarily flared across Belle's porcelain flesh as she forced herself to look at the thick slice of bread she was swathing with butter instead of the sardonically grinning Dark One. "I would like permission to move back into my old room in the servant quarters."

Far be it from her to appear ungracious towards his kind gesture, but Belle was none to keen in accepting the gift right after what they had gone through. It felt…wrong like he had bribed her into aiding him somehow.

"Why?" He inquired sagely to mask his startled surprise.

His brow knit plaintively as he slowed chewing to mull over the confusion that wrapped abut his mind towards her low spoken words. Was she not happy in her lavish chambers decorated with the finery that would make royalty envy and every feminine monarch scorched with blistering jealousy? He wafted his fingers placidly through the atmosphere; a bit of cheated sarcasm bare in his usual light hearted timbre. "Is it not ornate enough to suit your luxurious fancies?"

"I was very content in my old quarters." She rebuffed gently, not rising to the ire that glowed as soft embers he was prodding to life, after taking a large bite of the warm freshly baked bread as if digesting the faint hint of disappointment pricking his tone. "It is a beautifully gilded room, but far too extravagant for myself and my status."

A trite sigh blustered past the Dark One's lips as a grimace etched over his features. His head tilted towards the monolithic panes of glass that explicitly and wondrously displayed the glorious sky of dusk awash with violet and pinks mingled pleasantly with crimson smearing across the firmament of heaven. "I commend your tenacity to still attempt to pull the wool over my eyes, Belle-of-mine. Yet I don't enjoy being lied too. So tell me in all truthfulness, why scorn my kindness?" He reprimanded tenderly with a slight snort of derision.

"Then, for truths sake, I do not wish it to be some sort of payment." Belle replied plainly as if ripping a dried poultice from tender flesh.

The beauty forced herself not to flinch as she saw her master physically wince at her words that could not be danced around even if she could have honeyed them to take a bit of their bitter meaning away.

Picking up his chipped cup delicately the magical monster did not turn back to face his dutiful servant, but concentrated his gaze downward to the steaming warm maple hued liquid swilling in the tea cup and the misty ropes of steam drifting towards he features. "Surly you want _something _for all your long toils in nursing me back to the land of the living_._" He murmured absently as his thumb circled the emblazoned rim of the ceramic trinket in his clutches. "I owe you my life, Belle."

"You don't _owe _me anything. Not everything is business, Rum." Belle countered; her voice sharp and tart in mild offence. How dare he even assume she wanted something for aiding him! She did what she did because he needed her, not because she believed there would be a prize at the end of her labors! He was alive and that was good enough for her. "My help has no price, no bargain to be struck, and no blasted deal to be hammered out. I did not tend to you for gain."

"It's never something for nothing, Dearie." The fiend retorted immediately in his ancient mantra that fell easily past his thin lips without a second thought. An incredulous scoff, that she would actually think she could make him believe caring for him was out of the goodness of her heart, erupted scornfully from his mouth.

She had saved his life; a bigger debt could not possibly be owed.

There would be a perpetual wariness of a debt that had the potential to be called in any time she chose if he didn't get rid of it soon, and Rumpel did not like his role of debt collector and deal doer turned upon him to some disastrous affect.

His lips pursed in an odd grimace as he shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "Whether you want it or not I have a debt to pay to you."

"Then I renounce and relive you of your supposed debt to me, Rumpelstiltskin." Belle stated matter-of-fact, her voice edged icily with steel as he refused to let the ridiculous notion of his dues towards her fall away.

A mirthless chuckle huffed sharply out the Dark One's throat as he shook his head mildly. Given an opportunity, who wouldn't want basically a free wish from the most power magician in all the realms? He was more than a little boastful of his talents that could conjure anything imaginable to a human or otherwise fertile mind. "It doesn't work that way, Dearie; not with me. You can't just forgive a debt with me, nor I vice versa. Ask me for anything and I shall grant it so we may wipe our slate clean." He revealed smugly reveling in the fact he could obtain anything of her desire to even their scales; not fully registering his foolish un-thoughtful words that poured stupidly from his mouth.

"My freedom?" Belle inquired simply, her eyes glinting rebelliously, although she kept her calm composure instead of the anger that flared beneath.

Instantly she regretted the words that had so angrily flitted from her mouth. But then again, a little lesson in minding his tongue and thinking her so shallow as to want something in recompense for nursing him back to health was in order, the beauty believed fervently; hoping it would make him truly stop and reconsider what he thought he needed to pay to her.

The fiend went rigid at the realization of what he proclaimed and how she could use it. A muscle involuntarily twitched in his jaw as he talons gripped the cup tighter. He thanked whatever common sense he still possessed that he hadn't tacked on 'promise' to his so foolish and haughty statement that proclaimed his vanity. "Anything but that." He whispered in a low breath that drifted off quietly to hide the sudden hoarseness in his throat.

Belle paused at his quiet almost frantic strained tone. Even though her words were merely spoken in anger, surely he could not wish her to stay that badly?

Was there truly more beneath the surface of her simple lot as slave as she had first supposed? But no, he probably was just concerned with all his secrets that she now fostered within her. Still, she put the thought away only temporarily to toy with later when there was a moment to contemplate his sudden change in demeanor.

"Fine." Belle growled at length; plainly holding back an annoyed sigh he still utterly refused to relent on his belief that he owed her something. "If there is no way to appease this senseless idea of debt you so have taking a shine too, I will ask for one thing then we will speak no more of this."

His moods could change so instantaneously, Belle wasn't even surprised when his lugubrious attitude vanished a moment later. The fiend bowed exuberantly towards the irked beauty, his broad smile resurfacing from his panicked repose as if it had never departed. "Your wish is my command."

"I'd like to write a letter to my papa; just to let him know I'm safe. You have my word I won't put anything towards undermining you in it, but you must not read it." Belle stated, making sure she had her basis covered. She had long wanted to write to her dear ailing papa if just to give him a bit of security. A snort of incredulity echoed from the beauty as she took the last bite of her impromptu meal. "Will our silly little 'debt' be settled then?"

"Of course." He lied smoothly on both the stipulation of the letter and the debt, never loosing his grin in the process of deceiving her.

Though he might have feelings he could no longer suppress for Belle, the fiend was certainly not trusting or foolish enough to let a letter leave from her hand without scanning it first to make sure nothing damnable about him was leaked out, and her debt was far to large for one simple letter to clear their slate clean. She had saved the life of the Dark One after all.

"Don't you see why I have no need for payment of favors or anything of the like, Rum?" Belle inquired at length, after they had drifted off into a precarious quiet.

Her anger dissipated towards him as quickly as he had riled it aflame with his talk of debt, but now that it was at an end she felt her iciness thaw as it always did when they had their odd little spats.

She cocked her head slightly to the side to look at him in curiosity as if he hadn't solved some great conundrum that should have been obvious. "You are alive, and only a tad worse for wear. And that will forever be enough for me, Rumpelstiltskin."

Rumpel didn't reply to the heartfelt tenderly spoken words, but only remained facing the towering windows, hoping the fading ruby light of dusk could conceal the deep crimson blush that fevered his cheeks.


	23. A Letter

_A/N: Thanks you all for reading and reviewing, much love to all 3_

**~8~8~**

"Is your letter ready, Belle?" Rum inquired with a mild air of curiosity as he donned his vibrant scarlet cloak that clashed in an unforgiving luminous hue with the world of winter white like some impure stain on the unblemished ivory of ice and snow.

The bright fiery red of the garment swirled around his dark leather boots, and the copious yet mangy ermine ruff that settled about his shoulder was matted and coarse with dirt, lice, and misuse.

Now was a good a time as any to deliver the message, Rumpel concluded sagely. Whilst the world was just beginning to stir to life once more from its deep and tranquil hibernation; when the very core of the earth was slowly brushing asunder its thick winter pelt that so long held the realms enthralled at the cruel mercies of the dark months that brought only cold and bareness.

Winding rocky, mud caked roads, so long rarely traveled in the dirty ice and freezing muck were starting to crawl to life with more adventurous people braving the hostile and inclement toils of snow and frost that was slowly, but surely losing its hold over the land.

No one would second question a suddenly appearing message from who knew where, only joyous to the fact that finally the realms were beginning to communicate again meaning the time for profit and spoils was nigh, and the last vestiges of winter was receding back to the earth from whence it came; proclaiming the entire world was stubbornly resurrecting from its hard repose of chill and bleak monotony.

The beauty appeared swiftly in the main hall as if his good natured prodding had conjured her there by some magically spoken phrase. Her every swaying step was graceful and spry like she merely drifted along with the drafty currents that whispered around the stone citadel, but with a touch of happiness bubbling just below her seemingly calm demeanor that forced a smile to tug at the edge of the fiends thin lips as her brightness all but emanated from her form.

Her clever hands held the note eagerly in her delicate grip as she approached her master tactfully, if not temperately veiling most of the bursting joy that bloomed within like the first blossom of spring greeting the world.

Even if she still didn't like the idea of some sort of debt he fancied he owed her, Belle was irrepressibly glad she could finally send a small note to her papa and relate her condition and gently assuage his weak, ailing heart in what little way she could by letting him know not to exert himself in worry or her lot in life.

A lovely smile tipped upwards at her lips as the beauty softly sighed once in gratefulness before handing the magical fiend the note. "All finished." She confirmed gaily; rocking a bit back and forth on her heels bouncily.

Her startling cobalt eyes glimmered expectantly and in thankfulness at the Dark One, making him want to avert his gaze in a sudden spur of… whatever it was that charged bravely into his black heart and battled the evil that lurked there and coiled covetously around his soul. Yet he couldn't veer his gaze away, but remained held under thrall; entrapped in their soft warmth that heated his flesh against the chill more than the ancient ratty cloak ever could.

Both simply stared at the other for long moments that felt akin to an eternity with every wavering breath and trembling pulse of the heart; their eyes searching intently at the other as if blue and black were caught in some intrepid dance that neither would allow to break away from.

Their heads swam with thoughts that could no longer be smothered into the back of their sharp intellect or dismissed as bored ramblings, and what-ifs of a lonely mind or even tucked away into the dark recesses of their hearts to deny the hidden desire that swirled incessantly beneath like some prowling predator.

Inward scolding, that they should not be so close or so enraptured by their precipitous emotions, fell upon deaf ears as they stood caught lost amidst the other like they were each gazing at some new curiosity that neither could comprehend quiet clearly.

Belle was the first to set foot out of their intense locked gaze of icy blue entwining with midnight black. The beauty's azure orbs fluttered rapidly to banish the feelings that surged through her in such longing waves of emotions that she was terrified to even think of them with him even in the room.

Forcing herself not to visibly shake her head at the darting thoughts that had been culminating and nursing in her mind ever since that fated day she had drawn the solicitous conclusion that he was her love, Belle snapped out of their reprieve with more than a little dread. Her head tipped down to conceal the rushing embarrassment of a ruby blush that fired against her cheeks, only to notice that her masters dexterous talons remained curled over her hand that hadn't released her heartfelt letter.

His thumb was absently drawing small invisible circles around her pulse point that quickened at an alarming speed, before he suddenly realized what Belle herself had only figured out moments earlier than he.

They both looked like bumbling idiots standing there without words; merely gazing at the other as if they'd never see one another for the rest of their lives!

"Apologies." Rum coughed nervously to hide the sheer gratefulness that Belle severed the tether of their gaze that kept him fettered in her enchanted azure orbs. His wiry hands slowly furled back from her own, gently gliding his finger tips down her hand that tenuously brushed her porcelain flesh, as he slipped the note inside a small discrete pocket of the cloak.

Belle merely nodded in acquiescence to his awkward apology while thankfully turning to a task that needed to be completed in the main hall to avoid his warm piercing gaze that searched her so broadly and yet felt like it pin pointed everything about her to the smallest detail; making her feel as if he were looking past her tingling flesh and to her soul so nakedly flaunting her feelings that could no longer be suppressed.

She felt that her whole body was on fire and that he could somehow see its bright flickering flames whenever he touched her so tenderly. Surely he must know what he did to her, Belle contemplated as she began her normal routine of fastidiously cleaning the dust away from her master's odd collection of trinkets and curiosities. Surely he had some inkling of knowledge that even a faint brush of skin met with her own hoisted her heart right in the middle of her throat and made it drum with a flawlessly rapid tempo that set her blood aflame as it galloped through her veins.

"I'll be back before supper." The Dark One promised carefully in a low grunt that he forced harshly from his throat in an attempt to sound like nothing had occurred.

He stalwartly refused not step back into that flagrantly awkward dance, that thrust them out of their quick witted element any longer, and left them both franticly grasping at a lack of words that appeared all out of place with half hearted mumbled phrases and averting eyes as if they both suddenly found themselves indecent for the others perusal.

Nodding a second time, the beauty forced herself not to turn back, wary she might let something moronic pass her lips to the man who had inadvertently snatched up her tremulously pulsing heart and now held it firmly in his clawed grip to cherish of cruelly devour. Even though she was certain he did not and would never feel the same she couldn't repress the emotions that yearned for him every waking hour and every sleepless night.

A wavering breath gusted out of Belle's mouth as her masters strides became only sonorous steps as he departed from his ancient citadel. The dull closing boom of the huge double doors that led to the estate were the only sound that held testament the fiend had left for another day of dark deal making and crafty bargaining.

Sighing languidly she screwed her cobalt orbs shut and leaned her furrowed brow against the still slightly warm mantel, which sported a few special trinkets that her master enjoyed above the dying embers of the hearth.

Her fingers curled viciously around the wood of the shelf, her nails digging partially into the coarse grain with all her pent of frustration of holding such a love for him in her heart that could never be shared and never bared for him in the way it longed for.

Eternity as his slave was going to be very difficult indeed she had to carry the weight of such deep, pressing feelings that burned for him inside for every moment she drew breath, and if they couldn't conquer and bypass awkward conversation that reared its deplorable head at every turn of simple banter!

~8~8~

Gnashing winter winds, grudgingly accompanied with just a faint hint of warmth drifting upon its frigid breath, assailed the Dark One's wiry form as he entered the very heart of the ominous dark forest that lay sprawled out menacingly before his estate. More than one person had turned back from the loathsome shaded glade of gnarled clawing trees, thick with plush green moss about every plaintive towering trunk and long bare branches that looked akin to demons talons read to pluck up the unaware that dare tread into their realm of corruption.

Being the infamous Dark One, however, the forest was rather charming to him in its own sinister malignant way that prevailed the earth with is permeating force of doom and ill-met fate to all who dare walk under its shade.

Happily humming a quaint tune Belle had been whimsically droning while she labored the other day, Rum strolled surreptitiously at a quiet, easy pace through the bowers of darkness and treacherous pathways that meandered in-between the haunted canopies of the dark wood.

Nothing dare harm him in the forlorn glades of warped evil. In fact it recoiled from his presence as if begrudgingly bowing in respect to the higher force of dark magic that cantered through its ominous leaf strewn land.

A hand slipped inside his cloak easily as his steps tapered off to a halt, his dexterous talons fingering the fine edge of the note Belle has endowed upon him to deliver to her father. He paused at a denser part of the dark glade where a sliver of golden white sun managed to slip through the broad canopy of snow crusted pines that stalwartly shield the azure sky above so that its inherent dark foulness could fester mostly unperturbed from the blinding radiance of day that fought to rid the land of its menacing foreboding aura.

A mild grunt slipped past the Dark One's thin gray lips as he perched himself comfortably on a fallen moss strewn log that only held a sprinkling of the white flakes that miraculously managed to flitter down to the vile leaf littered land.

Revealing the letter from his garishly flamboyant scarlet cloak, the magical monster toyed cleverly with the affectionately written message briefly in his claws as he inspected it curiously. The parchment was a faded white, nearly light slate gray blue color that she had requested from him to write upon. It was sealed with a fair sized oval dollop of silvery white wax with a slip of azure ribbon she normally tied to keep her luscious honey amber tresses at bay from her lovely feature, while she tended to her chores, pressed delicately in the very center.

The Dark One couldn't help but grin endearingly at the carefully tailored note that practically screamed Belle, as he absently flourished his finger through the chilly air. A foggy mist of dark wispy purple enshrouded his free hand instantly brining a knife to his dexterous claws. The small plain, rather dingy, knife was unadorned and simple, but the steel of the knife glowed a soft ember red, looking akin to a heated coal just removed from a forger's furnace.

Wielding the conjured blade expertly, he easily slit the wax directly under the parchment striping the little token cleanly from the letter without breaking its hardened emblem. A faint smile tugged gleefully at his mouth as he admired the small trinket that looked akin to a little medal given to a knight from his lady fair.

Flicking his wrist lazily the note snapped open to reveal Belle's graceful script neatly scrawled along the parchment. Her fragrance of summer honeysuckle drifted pleasantly through the chill air, making him take in a long draught of her intoxicating aroma. He shut his marble onyx orbs as he breathed her lovely essence in deeply, his mind involuntarily imagining she was only inches away.

A faint pulse of guilt mingled with regret pierced his hardened heart at the thought of Belle nearby; trusting him to deliver her letter privately away from his inscrutable gaze. He had so lucidly lied those days before, proclaiming in his giddy falsetto he wouldn't read it, yet knowing they had only been kind deceptive words to soothe her smoldering infamous suspicion, and let her believe he would be true.

Now his deception spawned a loathing that frothed foully in his gut that he knew perfectly well he was still going to peruse her letter in order not to fall prey to some careless trick or trap.

A grimace marbled upon his mottled features of gray-gold flesh as he quietly murmured a plea for Belle's forgiveness under his breath, and determinedly forced himself to read her letter instead of fighting his vagrant nature.

_My dearest Papa,_

_I trust this letter find you in better health, and in better spirits than when I departed to take my place as the price of life and freedom for our people. Much time has passed since we last talked or saw one another, but I still think of you fondly. _

_When my days work is done and all has fallen in silent repose, I often contemplate my now two vastly different ways of life as my mind wanders back to the time before this existence here in the palace known as the Dark Castle, as my master terms his home. I miss you dearly, as I am certain you pine to see me again as well. However, even burdened with the yearning pangs I occasionally feel for home that rile within me every so often, I can honesty write that I have found a contented happiness of sorts residing here with the Dark One. _

The magical monster paused for the briefest of moments, his ebony eyes narrowed in incredulity as he measured the genuine sincerity of the graciously written words scrawled before him.

His talons absently toyed with the fringes of the note as he pondered her meaning. Did her words mean what he dare hope he wished they meant? For a second something akin to unadaluterated joy broke free of the Dark One's heart but it was immediately shredded asunder by the claws of the darkness that festered across his heart.

Another black grimace etched his thin lips as his cold logic sank into his thoughts. No, they were more than likely some simply complacent words to balm her fathers ailing with false pretenses of her contentment to soothe him from worry. But still he wondered…

_I can picture our face now, Papa, your worrisome, wrinkled brow all knit ponderously in blustered confusion as you reread my words. You might only consider and fathom this feeling I relate to my indefatigable optimism as was always my fancy, but I believe it more than that now. So much more in fact I don't know if it terrifies or delights me. _

What did she possibly mean by that? Rumpel contemplated demurely, his black heart fluttering tepidly at her mysterious words.

_My condition in the citadel is far from what I expected when I arrived. Some may dub him a beast or a monster, but he is not without compassion or regard for his slave. I am treated extremely well here with my…to be honest I am not so sure what he is to me any longer. Master, companion, acquaintance? Things are so twisted from what I had first supposed my slavery to entail I am not certain what exactly to think anymore._

_All this time, for as long as any have remembered, we have been taught to fear him. Unruly children were warned in the dead of night if they didn't behave Rumpelstiltskin would spirit them away and devour them. His name was whispered only in the darkest corners of the deepest crypts, and yet I feel privileged, not frightened to know him. _

_At first I was precariously wary of him, not knowing what might become of me, then I grew to tolerate and even speak freely to him as a companion and not a slave. But now as even more time passes into eternity I realize there may be something there that wasn't there before._

What was there! The magical fiend wanted to scream at the note as if it could reply to his suddenly panicked inquiry. His ancient mind danced in a kaleidoscope whirl at what she so freely, and even truthfully dictated so surely upon the parchment.

He had a faint suspicion he knew the answer to his own question but his mind refused to trek down that ponderous contemplative path.

_There is more to him, Papa, far more dwelling beneath his lackadaisical darkness and pitiless amused uncaring for the plight of the desperate. It is something that I feel I am on the very cusp of unearthing yet it seems so impossible to delve into its fathomless mysteries to reveal what lies beneath the thick shrouds of evil he drapes upon his soul. _

_Perhaps it is simply due to all my days with him as my only companion, but I will freely admit I am glad it was fortunately he who claimed me and not some other darkened heart promising victory and safety for our people in return for my servitude. _

Even though he was the solitary soul that currently dwelled and pulsed in the forlorn greenery of the Dark Wood, the magical fiend wanted to sequester himself away at the embarrassment and bashfulness he felt roil in inside him. He could barely fathom it; if she had to have been spirited away by anyone who could have provided victory over the barbaric ogres she was happy it was he?

_You're reading this, probably wondering how I became fortunate enough to manage a letter to you after all this time. My only answer I can relate is that he is not the cruel beast people take him for. I am, and this letter, I trust, are testament to the fact it is a harsh, unforgiving, title he truly does not deserve. _

_Yet even knowing all this, knowing my life is far from horrible and even happy, my heart still aches for home. I miss you Papa, and I fret about the strenuous activity of governing your people that has wrecked havoc and pummeled your soul with worry for the good of all you strive so fortuitously to obtain, but I hope I have accomplished a little to assuage your weak heart with the peaceful knowledge that I am well and safe and content._

_Even though I can no longer be with you, you have my love, and I know I have yours. _

_-Belle_

Long minutes ticked by in the corrupted forest, its land silent as a cold forgotten grave that seemed to echo the Dark One's thoughts. Shame crashed over him in towering waves that made the fiend curse himself deeply.

Belle, so loving and kind and wonderful, yet she abided by her word while he did not. It was a private heartfelt letter, meant for her father's eyes only and he couldn't help but feel that he had sullied it in a way with his unabashed paranoia.

He squandered her trust away by letting his always cold logic and evil sensibilities maneuver him about with out regard for her simple wish that he not read it. She had written not one foul word about him; no bemoaning or crying of her wretched fate or lot in life or speaking of regrets. She made no mention of her dark cell, or the spouts of blinding anger that sometime gripped him.

He felt his throat clench tightly in irrefutable guilt as he realized with a shocking clarity, she had spoken…well of him.

~8~8~

It was late before the Dark One arrived at the small but prosperous, now that the ogres had been vanquished, and richly adorned castle of Belle's homeland.

The moon was a pallid smiling sliver of light in the sky that made the sea, which ebbed and crashed lazily against the golden sand; twinkling with its luminous flecks of brilliance that mingled with the steely hued waters.

The magical monster was able to bypass the pathetic warding spells that enshrouded and enveloped the palace of king Maurice with an ease that would have made him giggle if he were in any giddy mood. But not tonight. Tonight called for a modicum of solemnity, for he was on an important mission for his Belle.

He didn't quiet know when he'd started thinking of her as that - his Belle, but it felt right not because he considered her property, but because he knew explicitly she was his to protect and strive to make happy. His Belle, oh her very name felt sweet on his tongue!

Somewhere along the months she had dwelled in the Dark Castle, the rank of master and slave had dissolved into some blurry indiscernible line where the infamous fiend wasn't quite so certain who was who at times. For here he was running about with a letter like a messanger boy to do her bidding!

As he traversed the darkened halls, as only a ebony specter that flitted around the guardsmen crackling braziers, and dashed upon the cold stone walls, his footsteps were muffled as he padded silently as a cats shadow to the kings chamber.

A few sparse candles flickered demurely along the darkest corners of the sprawling lavish chamber as if to combat the black press of death that hung thickly, depressingly almost, in room. Even in the dimness the fiend could hear the wheezing spattering of breath that rattled from the king's bloated form. His skin was rubbery and pale with pricks of red peeling blotches layered upon his corpulent face that was furrowed in a fitful potion induced slumber than a truly restful one.

With his many centuries of travailing the realms, Rumpelstiltskin knew a dying man when he saw one. He was sick, sicker even than when his precious daughter had been by his side to nurse his ailing with her tender care. Perhaps her being being ripped away from him had something to do with the rapid ascent into death's cold grip?

A hard frown marbled the Dark One's gray-gold features as he slid the note on to the king's nightstand, by the many disgusting vials of remedies and potions, to be immediately at hand when he awoke. If he awoke at all.

He shouldn't do it, Rumpel knew instantly as the thought had barreled into his mind, but the thought carrying the knowledge that he had read the letter while Belle's father had been denied the privilege sat uneasy with him. Yes, he knew rather incorrigibly he shouldn't, but it was for Belle.

Sighing in resignation for his weakness for the chestnut haired beauty, the Dark One wriggled his fingers over the frail diseased king. Tendril of hazy lilac burst from his finger tips and drifted lazily, but with a purpose to surround Belle's sick father. Immediately his hearts weak beat thudded stronger in his chest, his wheezed heavy breath eased to mild healthy snores and the lines in his thick brow and jowls vanished away into a peaceful repose.

Instead of being a sickly old king about to meet his final days, he now resembled the perfect picture of health vibrancy that his age allowed.

A grin formed at the fiends thin gray lips as he hoped to think Belle would have liked what he'd done for her father. He could almost picture her warm wide smile towards him and wrapping her arm around his neck as she leant up to meet his lips and-

No! No, he cursed himself roundly at the pleasant images that his thoughts had meandered to. He had to stop thinking those things before they engulfed him at tore at his heart. She would never feel the same way his soul felt for her, and he had sworn long ago never to force her in any way to assuage the longing to feel her close.

Banishing the thought away with the king's illness that flitted away as if it had never been, the fiend snorted lowly in satisfaction, his arms crossed surreptitiously as he stared down at the king. "For what it's worth, your daughter is the best treasure I ever bargained for. I wouldn't trade her for any deal." The fiend admitted quietly to the now peacefully dozing monarch.

Never did he feel sympathy for the woes and losses of men, but a faint hint of condolence went out to the resting king for the unfair price he had had to pay. Had the magical monster knew then what he knew now he would have had to make some other deal, for Belle, well in his cunning estimation, Belle was priceless and not even a kingdom was worth giving her up.

Turning on his heel he snapped his cloak behind him making it flourish through the dank candle light, and with a trail of lavender magic he was in a thick billow of conjured smoke; with no hint the had ever tread foot in the palace.

A moment later when his dark, sickly sweet magic had drifted away on the drafts through the castle, the letter that was meant for the king glowed a pulsing black and then vanished in a ripple of magic.

Perhaps if he had not been so haughty over his vast magical prowess against the weak enchantment that adorned the castle of King Maurice, he might have picked up the lingering hint of Regina's magic that clung faintly and hid amidst the tendril of the insipidly pathetic protection spells.


	24. So Close!

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, Hugs to all! Also, incoming Regina!_

**~8~8~**

Gaston knew something dire had happened the moment one of Regina's most trusted guardsmen came to fetch him. The man, a huge six foot nine towering mountain of nothing but muscle and sinew was trembling like he had spent all night naked in the middle of a blizzard.

The knight couldn't help but grimace as he strode far more confident than he felt through the winding ivory corridors of the queen's palace; his strong steps echoing ominously about him like some death dirge. The quavering words the guard had spoken still sat ill with Gaston as they sprinted over and over in his mind. _"Her majesty wants to see you immediately. If you worship any deities I suggest you beseech them now for mercy…" _

Those had been the warning, haunted words that culminated inside Gaston, filling with more than a little dread as he stalwartly burst into Regina's tower.

The ominous press of darkness that emanated about the lonesome spire never failed to make Gaston shiver as he thought about the poor souls who had met such gruesome ends in the stony magical place.

Candelabras festooned the top circular room of the tower, beckoning odd dreaded shadows to dance upon the black walls like demons maliciously cavorting all around those who inhabited the loathsome room. The entire spire was irrepressibly hot with all the guttering flames in their holders, seemingly melting the people as they did the pearly animal fat wax that wound oily black smoke to the rafters.

He thought Regina liked the intolerable heat that sent rivulets of sweat coursing down the unfortunate bodies that wound up there to put more pressure on them while she cruelly toyed with their fate as an evil predator does a wounded prey.

The stone floor was dotted precociously with dried gore that couldn't be scrubbed out of the cold grain no matter how many slaves worked their hand raw to remove the tell tale signs of a horrid fate from displeasing the evil queen.

A querulous knot formed in Gaston's throat as a harsh, heavy pant burst from his lips due to the inferno of heat. His rough battle calloused hand rubbed the back of his already thick sweaty neck, as he considered the fact he might just become one of those memorandums streaked disgustingly in one of the cracks in the wall or another crimson puddle caked on the floor.

His other free hand pawed warily at the blade strapped to his side; his fingers toying with the sword hilt, knowing it wouldn't do any good to attack the queen with something as simple as hard forged steel, but it did calm him enough to put leg in front of the other, with every step drawing closer to the sinister woman.

"Ruined!" A high pitched feminine voice shrieked like a wounded banshee in a gale making Gaston physically jump in terror. Goosebumps traced across his flesh as his heart raced like a frightened doe running from a hunter. His mud brown eyes searched the brightly lit and meltingly blazing room for Regina. It had been her voice, but he had never heard her this angry. It was as if a demon where being skinned alive and then doused with holy water.

Walking in a slow determined circle, the knight scanned the large room intently his eyes narrowed to peer into the utterly voided corners of black forlornness that even the candles couldn't pierce with their sad scorching flames. "Majesty? What has happened?" He asked warily in a forced calm; forcing himself to steady while every muscle in his body was tensed to its very limit.

"This is what has happened!" Regina cried furiously as she appeared in front of Gaston so quickly it was as if she a formulated in midair by the foul magic that reeked around them.

Her left hand was lifted above her head and balled tightly into a fist that crinkled a pleasant looking letter. A disgusted snarl marbled upon her blood red lips, as her eyes danced with an anger that made Gaston very literally tremble at the blazing rage boiling in her teal orbs. Her hair, so normally neat and trim to the very last wavy strand of onyx tresses, flitted in tiny wisps about her furious features that betrayed a hint of desperation lurking deep under her anger.

The knight dabbed his dry rough lips with an even drier tongue, desperately wanting to be in the cool muddied outdoors rather that baking in Regina's own personal hell. "What is it, my queen?" He dare inquire again. His tone was as humbled and innocent as he could possibly twist it; risking her wrath for more information to figure out if he was the object of her galled anger.

"This you ignorant buffoon! This!" She screeched pushing the well tailored note, now ugly and crinkled, into his sweat stained face. "I fortunately had the foresight to place a few inconspicuous spells intertwined with the ones protecting your little Belle's father's castle, and this is what I procured!" A low hiss of incoherent seething seeped past Regina's lips as she withdrew the letter before Gaston had a chance to peruse it, knowing half the words would be lost upon his dull sensibilities.

"Listen to this!" She commanded furiously as she flicked open the crumpled note. Her glossy ruby lips twisted into an ugly sneer as she read a few passages from the letter. "He is not without compassion and regard for his slave! Something there that wasn't there before!" Another angry bellow of pure rage tore from her throat as she ripped the letter to tiny shreds and flecks of paper that drifted in the air like a tiny blizzard conjured about her.

The sheer opposite of what was supposed to be festering inside the stupid little slave all winter long had been nurtured in the opposite direction. The letter should have been about her terror and hate for the Dark One who had viciously raped her, not such words as kind and compassionate!

He had taken and imbibed the bottle she had ordered the brute Gaston to plant after he destroyed the vintner's livelihood. Maelifiecent's festering paranoia was sheer testament to his consumption of the Wonderland brew! The beastly sorceress hadn't left her palace once, so terrified of the Dark One and what he had done to her after he had blatantly accused her of setting him up with the bottle from Wonderland.

"It makes no sense!" Regina growled, her rage just mildly suppressed as the enigma and pondering took more control that the blinding white anger roiling in an inferno inside her.

The evil monarch began a temperate pacing that made her stylish heels click rhythmically with each stride; her flawless pallid brow knit in thought. "He took the bottle, he drank the brew, he should have by all accounts raped or at the very least beaten her, and yet by that infuriating little note she makes it sound as if he might _love_ her!" She spat as if the very word 'love' was a bitter brew.

"I could have told you that." Gaston scoffed contritely, his guard lowered seeing that he was not the target for her ire.

The queen paused dead in her tracks, her frown deepening even further, brow furrowed contemplatively in confusion. "What exactly do you mean by that?" She inquired in a forced, only slightly irritated, calm as she turned on her heel sharply to face the brute.

The idiotic knight grinned broadly in superiority as he straightened cockily; very proud that he knew a piece of the puzzle that Regina did not. "I figured it out all on my own when I met him in the woods those long months ago." He gave a harsh laugh, completely oblivious to the harsh steely glint suddenly flashing in Regina's eyes. "To think, he wanted me to go back to her father and tell him that he's kind and gentle and treats her well!" He stated dully in moronic amusement.

"Allow me to put this together, and correct me if I'm wrong, but are you saying that you had a conversation with that impotent imp, and knew all this time that he might love her, yet somehow it didn't seem important to relate to me?" Regina asked through clenched teeth, her jaw clamped shut like a bear trap to control her suddenly erupting rage.

Gaston blanched to the color of the melting snow, realizing his blunder and slip of the tongue. Instinctively his hand gripped the blade at his side as his mouth sputtered pathetically, unable to formulate a complete sentence, but only babbled half pleading words. "I…I mean…your…plans… I mentioned it in my letter…"

A scowl festered upon Regina's flawless furious features as she shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as if clinging desperately to the very last reserve of patience and calm that still lurked in her body. "Did I read the revived note, Gaston?" She asked in a gusty sigh.

"No." He squeaked intrepidly; seeming to shrink away from the evil queen as he witnessed her infamous anger just simmering right below the surface as if waiting to strike at him.

This cretin, this waste of breath and space, this king of morons had precious information and had forgotten to share it! While she had been toiling so long to make the little slave girl hate her master, he had known all along something along the lines of love had been blooming in the Dark One!

A spell was literally crackled at the tips of her delicately onyx painted nails to transmute the idiot before her into a mess of black smoldering goo, but she suddenly stopped herself; the magic begrudgingly retracting back into her heated blood like a lions claws.

An acid sweet smile bloomed across her pallid face that only lightly veiled the galled anger curdling inside. "Do not look so alarmed, Gaston, I'm not going to do anything to you. This is all my fault after all." She stated almost pleasantly…almost.

"W-what?" The knight stammered in confusion, blinking owlishly at the sudden changed evil dictator that appeared at a tenuous ease.

"Of course it's all my fault." She echoed with a tactfully careless heave of her shoulders. "I should have known better than to align myself with an idiot like you. I didn't char you to a crisp as I should have when you arrived; therefore the onus is on me."

An evil twist of her crimson lips made the knights heart fall into his gut as she shook her head sagely before lightly patting him lightly on the cheek with a hand that felt as if it was branding his flesh with heat. "Oh but don't worry I'll think of something else to combat that fiend with. This might have been a setback, but I trust now that I have learned my lesson things will be different, and you my dull friend will play an important role in my next course of action..."

~8~8~

Spring was in the air! Belle could smell its sweet scent drifting through the darkened corridors; she could feel the power of the sun streaming back down to the realms, each day beating the cold claws of winter back to its grave.

The caked snow was growing thinner every day, to fuel the thirsty earth with its cool water to revive the land from its tranquil rest. Birds of all sort tittered pleasantly just at the fringe of the dark forest that almost seemed grumpy that the hard rule of winter was at an end.

The russet haired beauty listened to the pleasant joyous tune of the birds as she swept the debris and dirt from the kitchen floor and out the servant door that led to the outside of the estate. Even though had not lifted her ban on traversing the grounds with out his accompaniment, she still let the door to freedom swing open in some little defiant way that she secretly believed amused him.

After setting the broom aside Belle sighed contentedly while waiting for their breakfast of oatmeal to finish cooking, and the pewter jug of milk to warm right at the edge of the heat. She truly hoped all the snow would melt by the late afternoon, to better her chances of convincing her insipid master to take a stroll around the grounds.

Her persuasion had already worked a few times during the days of receding cold, where they still donned some of their winter wear to trudge through the retreating snow. He, always the aloof gentlemen, held out the crook of his arm for her take and stood at a respectable distance as they spoke of general things to battle away the awkwardness that also lingered between them waiting to pounce upon them.

Sometimes they simply did not speak at all too just enjoy the company and silence that tranquil land brought although Belle was certain he could hear her heart drumming like far away storm clouds when they strolled in quiet.

A dreamy sigh past her pink lips as she hoped fervently he would say yes so that could fall into their modicum of comfortableness that was winning more than the awkwardness that tried to pull them away, just as the spring was prevailing over the winter.

But no sense in getting her hopes up, the beauty knew explicitly as she ventured back over to the fire to gather up their meal, business was staring to pick back up again meaning he might be off to stir up trouble across the realms or strike a few dastardly bargains.

Kneeling to remove the thick brown ceramic kettle of simmering oatmeal away from the fire, the beauty paid no heed to the pewter jug of milk that she had set a little to close to the blaze while wistfully day dreaming of laconically walking with her master around the vast estate.

_Crack_! The noise shredded through the air like glass being shattered.

The entire world seemed to explode in an array of white, blue, and black shards of pewter whizzing through the air like angry hornets mingled with the warm thick droplets of milk that went splattering in all directions that seemed akin to a rainstorm.

An alarmed terrified cry of surprise burst from Belle's lips as she instinctively dropped the ceramic kettle into the fire to raise her hands against the onslaught of zipping hunks of the milk jug that whirled with deadly precision.

In moments it was over, leaving the russet haired beauty trembling on her knees, both azure eyes involuntarily screwed shut and body tensed for the pain that she was certain would lance through her body.

The magical monster was aloft in his apothecary when he heard the scream that snapped his head up from his work at a jarring speed. His dexterous talons held two vials of glimmering blue and sickly purple each bubbling ominously and leeching their foul odors into the dank air in a toxic aroma.

That scream, it belonged to Belle, Rum knew instantly. Even though it could have only been her, he still would have been able to identify the scream had their been a thousand people all shrieking at once.

In half a second all manner of wretched thoughts clamped and curled around his tactile callous mind and stopped his heart cold in the icy miasma of terror that pressed tightly in his chest. A quarter of a second passed before he limply dropped the crystal vials, carelessly letting their precious contents dribble through their broken glass and ooze to the floor as he snapped his fingers and vanished.

"Belle!" The fiend yelled warily as he all but stumbled from the vile roiling cloud of purple magic that appeared in his main hall. Usually his landings from the conjured portals were smooth, but the lances of fear that skewered him, violently shook his normal control over the dark magic.

The room was bare of her presence and thankfully no curtain rails were on the floor with Belle unmoving under them. That was one small mercy, he thanked whatever deity that came to mind under his breath as he set off towards the kitchen in a frightening fast pace.

Belle heard her master before he even appeared. His dark leather boots padded rapidly towards the kitchen, filling the honey amber haired beauty with a coil of heated embarrassment.

Luckily, or perhaps magically, she hadn't been harm much save for one deep scratch across her left cheek that was slowly dribbling a bright crimson streak of blood against her porcelain features.

She wished he wouldn't walk in on her utter ineptness, but there was a trifle of happiness that he came so quickly to her aid.

"Belle! What happened in here?" Rumpel asked frantically as he appeared through the door.

"I…It just…" She stuttered pathetically realizing how foolish she looked amidst the shards of pewter that the puddle of milk. Of course her day dreaming was the result of the disaster. If only she paid more attention instead of getting lost in pleasant thoughts concerning her master.

He scoffed curtly as he neared her, though his eyes danced in alarm. "Never mind. Are you injured?"

"Not really." She assured him, though her cheek felt as if it were on fire.

Immediately the fiend noticed the slashed cut along her features and dribbling blood down the side of her face like crimson tears. A frown marbled across his thin gray lips as he knelt down beside her heedless of the nasty knifelike shards that surrounded him. His calloused claws cupped her face tenderly as he turned her head to look at the nasty wound.

"It's nothing, really." She protested weakly against the pain. Shivers she couldn't stifle crawled up her spine at the gentle way he touched her and how concerned his eyes trailed her face.

"Here, let me fix this." He crooned gently as his thumb traced over the cut. The digit faintly tinted a light purple as he tapered his thumb across the entire length of the wound. His sickly sweet magic knit the flesh back together neatly, with only the streaks of her blood to testify a wound had been there at all.

"There." The magical monster whispered gently with a soft smile.

The red of a fiery blush, that reminded the Dark One of a lovely rose, mingled with the blood tinting the beauty's cheeks as she looked away rather bashfully from him having to come to her rescue. "Thank you and I'm sorry I drew you away from your work. I can be so inept and oblivious and stupid at times."

"You can be a trifle clumsy on occasion, but you're none of those things, Belle-of-mine." He retorted immediately before he could stop himself. Almost on instinct he softly grabbed her chin gently prodding her to turn her face to meet his. "I wouldn't have bothered putting up with you if you were." The fiend remarked kindly.

His heart pulsed at a rapid tattoo as he realized it could have been much worse than one deep slit gash on her cheek. He had never felt so panic so raw and alive in all his centuries. The thought of Belle harmed and injured twisted his heart in vice that refused to relent. If she had been hurt irreparably…even the thought was too harsh to think of!

Seeing that no more harm had been done, the magical monster couldn't help but let the knowledge that she was so agonizingly close engulf him. She did not shy or pull away from his talons cupped under her chin, nor ask him to release her.

She gazed at him as breathlessly as he did towards her, and for that one moment the Dark One had never wanted so bad to close the distinct between them and tangle his lips with hers; reveling in the fact she was unharmed.

He almost did it. He very nearly leaned into her banishing away those few inches that sat a twixt them to taste the forbidden sweetness of her soft mouth that he so craved.

His head dipped the minutest of fractions towards her; daring to push what little courage he possessed before swearing to himself he'd pull away.

To his utmost surprise he was certain she pulled an inch towards him; drifting to his body rather than pulling away in offence. Her once singular motion spured his moment of boldness to steel his heart and bolster his courage to get closer and closer until they were only a hairsbreadth apart.

He could feel the scalding heat of her breath, only a mere inch away from his own. Her fragrance wafting around him, coaxing, tempting, him to seal the distance. Yes, he very nearly did it, only to smell thick choking billows of smoke that wafted around them.

Belle shook her head as if waking from a trance that held her frozen as his eyes melted her insides. The smoke curled from the spilled breakfast of oatmeal that sat bubbling and blacking in the licks of flame.

The gray clouds brought the pair out of what had come to a blatant head of their emotions desperately clawing for the other; terrifying them both of what had very nearly occurred.

Suddenly grateful for the foggy void that shrouded them, Rum coughed and waved the tendrils of invading smoke from his reddening eyes and clogged nostrils as he leapt to his feet. "Be careful next time and clean this mess up!" He commanded harshly to mask the terror that quivered in his voice to what could have happened as he all but ran out the kitchen leaving a stunned Belle behind.

What had he been just about to do! Rumpel pondered frantically as he gulped in huge smoke free breaths in his apothecary. The fiend licked his dried lips tremulously forcing his heart to slow its hammering beat to a more vapid tempo as he ran a trembling hand through his straggly light brown tresses.

She had been so close, so agonizingly close that he could smell the faint sweat on her skin and nearly feel her warm lips met with his own.

The thought of her being hurt had momentarily banished his cold tactile senses and let what ever foolish glimmer of feelings he felt for her that festered in his heart lead the way to very, very nearly trampling past a line that should not be crossed.

The magical monster sucked in huge draughts of air as his heart still refused to relent its pace after coming so close…It wasn't that his heart drummed so quickly at what he had almost done, it was because for one moment he was certain she had leaned to meet his lips as well.

He tried to deny it; reason that it was merely a trick of his mind that desired her so badly it hurt his heart with longing. But the instance replayed itself endlessly in his mind. She _had _neared him; she hadn't fought his touch, she drifted into it.

Maybe, perhaps, she did feel something that he felt in return. Why else would some one as lovely, beautiful, gorgeous, and wonderful as Belle ever let him, hideous monstrosity he was, hold her so close and not draw away at his beastliness?

A small silvery spark jumped to his heart at the unlikely thought that burrowed in his mind. Could she maybe, just maybe, have an inkling of emotion for him? Was it possible for Belle to feel something for him as he felt for her?

A frustrated cry growled past his lips as he clamped both his hand around his head as if a pain had shot through him. The claws of darkness that settled so long inside curled covetously over his heart; its vileness mocking his hopes and whispering its foul lies against the happy notion that Belle could actually feel more than just a companionship with him.

He was a monster after all, and no normal woman ever wanted the beast. In tales or in reality, the evil creature was loathed not loved.

For so long the blackness that festered in him had warded off the hopes, the fancies, the quaint notions of love that he dreamed of in his very private heart of hearts, but after what had transpired in the kitchen something…dangerous, wonderful even, happened. At that moment when he dare lean a mere fraction towards her, somehow, someway, the hope won out in his heart as if casting all its strength in one jaw cracking blow, to suddenly beat back the evil rooted so deeply inside and made it reel back stunned.

The magical fiend sunk down slowly to the cold stone floor as if physically dazed from the little brilliant light that still remained in his soul that beat back the fetid malice dwelling within.

The glimmering little spark of good that had been coaxed out from the deep mire of vileness that swarmed inside him, knew in its own way it only had one chance to overthrow the evil sequestered inside the Dark One before the blackness came charging back. The frail little remaining alliance of his conscious of what was hope, good, and happiness realized it had only a short time to plant the little seed that might bloom into something wonderful if he allowed it.

Sitting upon the cool floor, staring into the dankness, the nefarious Rumpelstiltskin deeply pondered how to figure out if Belle might possibly feel an inkling of the same way he felt for her. The true enigma that plagued his fledgling hope, however, was how to be completely certain that what she felt for him was real and not simply his mind being blinded by his feelings…


	25. Inquiry

_A/N: Thanks all you awesome people for reading and reviewing! Forgive me if the chapter sucks…so much writers block for this one also my internet is acting up, so yay for that…On a side note, who else thinks the new cover thing FF implemented is neat?_

**~8~8~**

After the jarring pewter explosion in the kitchen, not to mention the predicament both master and servant found themselves almost in, Belle's was eager to sequester herself far away as possible from the Dark One to figure out what had nearly occurred between them.

It hadn't been her imagination, she _knew _he had neared her; his ebony orbs searching her until they pierced and wrapped about her very soul with their voided eternal darkness.

She had been so drawn to him like a moth to a dancing flame. She couldn't help it; his rough hands cupping her face, the sickly sweet aroma of his dark magic that was both wonderful and terrible in its own exotic elixir, with his slate onyx eyes tempting, goading, coaxing her to meet his thin gray lips with her lush full own, enchanted her with the power of his mere touch that claimed more of the beauty than any deal ever could.

Then the stench of acrid smoke had yanked them apart as if it's tendrils of gray vapor had been physical claws that slashed through what mystical enrapture they had so inadvertently wandered into.

His eyes once so soft and open had hardened like hard flecks of black steel mingled with fear as he sprinted out of the kitchen. Leaving her dazed and mystified as if waking from a wonderful life-like dream only to find that it was flitting fancy of imagination conjured of a tired wistful mind.

Oh but there was no denying it, for a brief instance she _had _seen something flashing amidst his onyx orbs. Something that made her heart want to soar in ecstasy and weep in blissful joy all at once in some tangled web of emotion.

The beauty sighed in frustration mingled with wistful pondering as she dusted one of the huge guestrooms on the second tier of the Dark Castle. Spring was more or less blooming lush over all the realms as winter retreated, meaning Spring Cleaning would take most of the servants time until the castle was back to its polished gleam.

The room she toiled in was very odd, which was why it had been the first she been drawn to tidy up. It was a massive chamber that had been gilded and lavished to the extreme but not in a gaudy fashion. Where all the other rooms, save her own and she supposed her masters, were bare of linens on the beds and remained cold and bare and shut to the world, this particular chamber looked as if her puissant master were expecting some one to come home at any moment.

It must hold some fond memory, Belle concluded insightfully as she pulled open the light brown curtains to let the golden rays of sun in to drench the room in early spring warmth. She had been around Rum long enough to know he never just did something for nothing, yet now with what had happened earlier she didn't dare find him to ask even though her infamous curiosity flared inside like a tiny ember of flame.

Now with the golden orb of day filtering through the room, Belle could plainly see a thin layer of gray dust coating everything thanks to the winter reprieve where the upper tier remained mostly unattended.

Making a mental note to inquire of the room in the future the beauty padded to the nearby closet, hoping fresh, and un-moth nibbled linens resided inside.

Plain blue silk sheet, embroidered with golden thread knit in complex patterns around its edges met her gaze as she yawned the closest open slowly. Her brow knit furtively as she smoothed her hand across the fine cloth. Such luxury for this one room; but why?

A sigh slipped quietly past her lips as she shook her head sagely before scooping the bed linens in her arms. At times there were no answers to the puzzling conundrums that her master had in his citadel. Many times his reason simply where his own.

Striving to keep the mountains of sheets from tumbling to the floor and closing the closest door all at the same time, the beauty precariously watched her balanced to keep the silks in her grip when a dirty flash of light caught the corner of her eye.

Curiosity now fully an inferno blazing inside, the beauty back pedaled from the closet and absently dumped the linens on the bed; her chores momentarily forgotten in the heat of her inquisitiveness.

She was back to the dark dim closest in a heart beat, kneeling down to the bit of light that glimmered against the suns rays that engulfed the room.

A part of her whispered cautiously it might be some forbidden object akin to the dagger, but Belle immediately shook the unlikely thought away. Rum would not hide something nearly so precious in the back of a closet like an outdated garment! Still, a bit of wariness held her in thrall as she pawed away the gray wispy cobwebs at the bottom of the closet to help get a better look at what was buried so deep.

Drawing the wardrobe's thick double doors at full length to allow the beams of flaxen light to brighten what it could, a few tarnished silver buckles that glimmered in slivers of light from the dark recess of the closet.

In moments Belle grabbed the large object, and grunted determinedly in effort as she pulled it out from its dark corner.

The light revealed it to be a thick chestnut trunk with supple leather straps and buckles that kept it sealed from the elements of ravenous moths and decay of years. Unlike the tiny ornate chest that held the Dark One's covetous blade the trunk was rather hefty. Its thick wood looked ancient and warping though was firmly clamped together with the leather that felt as if it was fresh from the tanner rack.

A curious slant of her lips sprung to Belle's features as her clever hands deftly unhooked the buckles to see what lay in the chest. There was nothing ominous about the ancient trunk albeit its curious presence tucked away amidst the dank apertures of an old wardrobe assuaging some of her trepidation.

A small cloud of disrupted dust wafted through the air as the beauty flipped the top open to reveal it contents. Belle coughed and swiped at the air to send the particle shooing to dance in the suns rays as she peered into the trunk.

Clothes. Very old, rough sewn, coarse linen garments in faded colors of burgundies and browns and grays.

Picking up the first neatly folded tan tunic, Belle hoisted it up to the light, her azure eyes glinting in confusion as she searched the rough cloth. All the garbs were small as if for a young peasant boy, a few even showed signs of play where at the dirty fraying fringes of some of the breeches and at the knees still stained with mud of ages past.

"Why would he have these?" Belle inquired softly as she rested the shirt in her lap; her hands smoothing over the coarse fibers.

Where they gotten in some sort of bargain; bartered for some strange favor? But no, Rum collected only the finest or oddest of trinkets that caught his eyes. He only bartered for the exquisite that had taken his fancy. The troves of glimmering treasures he had hoarded and collected over his endless centuries that she so studiously kept clean were sheer testament to that.

So why had she discovered these stashed away at the back of a closet in a lavish chamber fit for a king?

The faint creaking of wood made Belle jump, slightly jarring her from her puzzled reprieve. A low curse spat past her lips as she realized she had slipped into distraction instead of tending to her chores. She could almost hear her masters ostentatious quips if he so happened to spy her looking at a ragged chest of clothes rather than completing her duties.

Quickly she folded the coarse cloth as neatly as she had found it before solemnly laying in back into its place. In a few moments all was back in order though leaving far more for the beauty to contemplate as she turned back to her tasks.

~8~8~

The warm spring sun turned the Dark One's eyes into twin glimmering pools of onyx as he gazed at the noontide sun. Rays of gold glinted off his scaly gray-green flesh flecking his features with light that almost appeared to give his face a luminance.

The previous day he and Belle had stayed a fair distance from one another, barely bantering with a few low voice words, and never meeting eye to eye. Both, although unknown to the other, had been pondering their private thoughts about the other.

So far the magical beast had not decided on a way to prove if Belle maybe had some sort of feeling for him. Nothing seemed…right. No test felt adequate, no question grounded enough. But today something had to happen, the awkwardness, the unexpected meetings, the silent staring had to end.

Yes, yesterday they had spent the day being cowardly, sulking around one another, each brooding in their contemplations. But toady, today, each had sworn to themselves, they were going to be brave.

Rum stirred his usual cup of tea absently as he peered intently out of the window, now once again free of their dark velveteen drapes. The new warmth, like that in his heart, was curious and refreshing and made him feel…odd, yet not in a foul way. It was as if a long frigid winter was being melted away in his heart as well as the land.

From the corner of his eye he could see Belle close by; idly toying with the tea spoon still dug into the sugar bowl; her own thoughts carefully hidden.

Taking a sip of his tea, the Dark One savored the scrumptious mulled flavor before inching away from his position. His hid a smile as Belle trailed innocently, almost playfully, behind him until he turned about to face her.

The beauty instantly paused, a faint smirk edging the side of her mouth as she propped herself up along the large oaken table. "I have a question to ask you." She finally stated boldly after summoning up her courage.

"Ask away, Dearie." The fiend replied, hiding a smile he could no longer suppress behind the chipped rim of his cup as he took a sip of the brew.

Belle gazed down, plucking absently at the fibers of her blue dress; heaving her shoulders in a tactful careless shrug. "I've been thinking, and I'd like to know why you bought me?"

An amused snort quietly emanated from the beast as he proffered his hand about the cleaned main hall as if it were quite obvious. "You saw what this place used to be like; absolutely wretched and filthy till I procured you to keep the place squeaky clean."

"Oh, and the all powerful Dark One cannot simply wave his hand and command a few dishes to scrub themselves and dust to flit away?" Belle remarked in jest, as a chuckle escaped her lips. The humor was gone a moment later as she tenderly sobered, as a small knowing smile softly etched across her features. "You know what I think? I think you desired some company."

Inside, the Dark One's heart constricted in a vice as he realized what dangerous dance they had suddenly enjoined. He wasn't the only one feeling brave today, he noted in surprise to himself, though kept his features strictly neutral.

In truth, some of her words were spot on. After all his centuries traipsing through the world all by his lonesome, then coming to a great stony palace that often felt more like a tomb than a home, he craved a little noise, a little companionship in the citadel. Yet never had he expected to feel so…drawn to the woman that fate had finally garnered him to pluck up from her life and steal her away with him so at least there was something to look forward to when coming back to his lavish castle.

"So I was cleaning upstairs yesterday and I found clothes for a small child." The beauty pressed on, seeing that her master had sunk into some silent inner reprieve of soul. "Where they yours? A son, perchance?" She inquired, curiously.

Bae. Rum's heart clenched at the mere thought. She had found Bae's clothing, not that he had hidden them away. He was simply surprised she had unearthed them after being tucked away for so long.

Nodding slowly, the fiend leaned against the table beside her; looking deeply into the last swirling dredges of tea in his cup. "Aye, there was a son." He replied quietly; gathering up his bravery. Ever since she arrived Belle had made him want to open up his dark soul. He trusted her, yet it was more than simple trust. "But I lost him as I did his mother." He finished forlornly, his words tapering off as the fiend fell back into his dire contemplation.

"Oh. I'm so sorry." Belle apologized gently. Her hand involuntarily went to his shoulder, squeezing slightly in a way that made his heart race. "He must have been very dear to you. Not many men would try to keep the last thing they had to remember their son."

"But I'm not a man. Not anymore…" Rum replied sagely with a saddened smile. His ebony orbs had a far away misty look as if he were staring back into the past, back to his son, his Bae and when he had truly lost his humanity that loathsome cold night in the heart of the forest.

"So you where a man once." She whispered more to herself than to him. " A regular, ordinary man."

If only she knew, he thought wryly. The ordinary, Rumpelstiltskin was weak, feeble, hobbling about as a cripple and forcing to lick the plate boots of dishonorable knights who were addicted to their own power and loved tormenting the less fortunate for their own sinister sport.

The human Rumpelstiltskin was a nobody; a bug crawling through the world fearing to be squashed, but the Dark One was the most powerful man in all the realms whom everyone knew and feared with just cause.

"Will you tell me about him; your son? Will you tell me about your life before the Dark One?" She inquired tenderly, knowing full well she treaded upon tumultuous ground. Somewhere deep down inside she had a inkling of knowledge that with that memory of the son held some form of him intact still lurking deep inside.

No, he couldn't speak to her of Bae. That would be wounds reopened all over again leaving only a bloody lonely dread in their wake that had taken centuries to balm.

As he remained stonily silent, lost in his own thoughts, the beauty slide a trifle closer to her master, her voice gentle. "If I'm to never know another soul for the rest of eternity, may I at least know you, Rumpelstiltskin? Where you come from; who you are?" Belle asked as she cocked her head slightly to the side as if the new angle would give something away.

A brief smile flitted the Dark One's gray lips as he wagged a scolding finger at her, his tone joking. "Maybe you just want to learn the beast's weaknesses, eh? A bit of espionage?"

"You are not a beast, Rum." Belle rebuffed with a slight snort and a mild shake of the head send her amber honey curls tumbling about. "Beasts are cruel and wicked which you are not. You think you're uglier than you truly are which is why you nail down drapes and cover mirrors with sheets, isn't it?"

Was she always so perceptive? Rumpel thought, mildly taken aback by the beauty's insight. He thought himself as some foul craven, yet he knew she saw him different. She saw what lay hidden behind the scales and the snickers and the darkness. She saw Rumpelstiltskin.

A booming knock on the door suddenly jolted him from traversing amidst his thoughts bringing him back to reality. His brow furrowed in curiosity as his head swiveled to the direction of the door.

From behind he heard Belle mutter a small sigh before slipping down quietly from the table. "I know, I know, off to my room." She filled in before he could speak the words.

"No. Stay." He commanded simply; his hand gently resting on her arm. The fiend didn't know what made him say the words, but he refused to sequester Belle away as if she were some dirty secret he was trying to hide from the world.

He could tell without even looking Belle was surprised, yet pleased with his order, and stood standing next to the table as the magical monster strode leisurely to the huge double doors of the Dark Castle.

~8~8~

Gaston was feeling better than he had in the many months holed away in the evil monarchs palace with only a spattering of rebellious half-starving peasants to terrorize and a few brawls with some rowdy drunkards.

He was ready and dressed for battle with the beast so that he could reclaim Belle and her father's kingdom. A thick chain mail shirt given to him by the queen hung under his blue and black tunic, and of course his secret weapon her majesty had bestowed upon him rested in his hand. A blade that looked ordinary and felt ordinary but she had assured him at every turn it was extremely magical and powerful to aid him in slaying the foul magical monster.

A wicked smirk weaseled upon his chiseled features as his mind dully toyed with the thoughts of gutting the devious Rumpelstiltskin and running the 'enchanted' steel through his chest and carving his black heart out. He even dare fancy he'd take the heart back to his manor and place it in his trophy room along with his other glorious kills he had garnered over the years.

He kept the blade upraised and at the ready, his body tensed for a hand to hand battle now that Regina had insured him the beast's magic was useless as long as he held the blade.

Of course only Regina knew there was nothing magical whatsoever about the steel or the armor.

The evil queen stared intently into a gilded golden mirror, looking out of the very fringe of the forest just tenderly toeing the line of Rumpel's magical estate to spy what was happening.

Any insight she had on the fiend was a blessing, and now purposefully sending the idiotic knight to his doom put her in a sinisterly favorable mood.

An amused smile hinted at the edge of her painted lips as she crossed her arms, looking at the knight so brazenly slamming at the fiend's door, unwittingly heralding his own doom.

~8~8~

With a flick of the wrist the huge double doors groaned open, revealing to Rumpelstiltskin the hulking form of Gaston. The fiend tactfully bit back a laugh at the brute that stood ready to do battle in front of him.

"We meet again, beast." Gaston snarled as he flourished his blade dramatically through the air, brandishing it threateningly.

"Who are you again?" The fiend teased giddily as he put a talon to his chin as if trying to place the knight.

The brute's eyes narrowed angrily at once again being 'forgotten'. Oh but this time it would be different, the foul toad in front of him would forever remember the name of the man who bled him like a stuffed pig. "I am sir Gaston!" He revealed heroically. "And you, beast have-"

"Oh yes you're the one who I allowed to live." Rum interrupted uncaringly; his high pitched timbre sly. "Yet it seems you've not wanted to abide by my gracious offer. Ah well, mores the pity."

Before the knight could move to attack, before a battle cry could even burst from his lips. The fiend snapped his dexterous talons, a satisfied grin wide upon his scaly features as a purple haze surrounded the dunce.

In a split second all that remained of Gaston was a blooming rose laying where the knight had once stood. A sinister chortle echoed quietly from the fiend as he admired his handiwork before quickly plucking it up. Not only would it make a lovely little gesture to his Belle, but he had done his good dead for the decade and rid the realms of one less idiot.

~8~8~

Regina could only stare in shock and cheated awe as she watched the fiend turn back inside with the rose that had once been Gaston in hand.

She had hoped, nay, expected the Dark One to torture the moronic cretin. She desired to hear his pleading screams for mercy and listen for the sweet sound of his flesh being seared away by magic. Others had done far less against the Dark One and had been subject to worst torment than being conjured into flora!

The witch cursed foully as she punched a hand to the wall, feeling very disappointed Rumpel had not offered her a show. Was that slave making him soft?

The thought made her momentarily let her anger flit away and make her consider the sudden notion.

If her love was wearing upon his heart perhaps then it was making him weak. Love did of course, it made the strong weak and forced the weak to get weaker instead of fighting their way to grandeur. She had learned that the hard way, hadn't she?

An utterly wicked smile bloomed upon her lush ruby lips at the sudden answer to her long fought problem of the Dark One.

Love. Love was the key, for love made people weak. It was a bane, a scourge not strength and if Rumpel had fallen for its poisonous bite then it was only a matter of time before Regain could use it to her advantage.

~8~8~

"Who was that?" Belle inquired curiously as the Rum reappeared in the main hall.

The fiend shrugged lazily as he strolled in, his hands folded behind his back. "No one really. An old woman selling flowers that'd lost her way." He lied smoothly; with just a hint of regret.

He hated lying to Belle, but he highly doubted she would have enjoyed the truth that he had turned her former fiancé into a rose.

A soft smile marbled across his face as he revealed the long stemmed rose from behind his back. "Here." He presented it to her elegantly, a bit of a smug smirk tugging the edge of his lips. "If you'll have it."

Her eyes flashed in surprise at the unexpected gift, but warmed instantly to the proffered trinket. "That was very kind of you." She replied, dipping in a courtly curtsy.

Always the gentlemen, he offered her a regal bow as if he might be a petitioning dance partner at a ball.

Belle couldn't help but giggle at his action before she turned to tend to his thoughtful gift. Her fingers smoothed over the velvet softness of the petals as she held it close to her heart. How could someone so sweet label themselves a beast? She thought puzzlingly.

He never thought she looked so beautiful standing there, with the light bouncing off her amber honey curls, admiring and sniffing the little trinket appreciatively; loving such a simple thing instead of adoring gems and jewels and silks and riches like any other princess would.

How had he ever managed to convince her, so lovely and beautiful and sweet and wonderful to ever sell herself to him? That was a true mystery for even the wisest of folk. "You had a life, Belle before all of…" He paused flourishing his finger through the air at the grandness surrounding him. "This. Why did you choose to sell yourself to me?" He asked before slipping into his normal seat at the end of the table. His fingertips formed a loose triangle as he peered at the beauty intently with his onyx orbs as she searched for a vase.

"If I recall I was the only thing you'd accept." She countered easily, her tone almost playful.

"But you still did not have to accept. No one would blame you for desiring to keep your freedom; your life out of the hands of a monster." He rebuffed gracefully. "So why choose to sacrifice your freedom?"

Belle shrugged slightly and she pruned the lower stem from the long rose. "Back home women do not have equal treatment with the men. We're expected to stay home cowering in the dark, wringing our hands, and looking after more strapping boys to do battle and make our land prosper with trade. There is no true way a woman can be a heroine. I suppose when you came there was a chance for me to actually do something brave."

"But you must have been terrified coming here with me." He ventured, intrigued.

"True, but as my mother used to say 'be brave and bravery will follow'. If I was brave enough to accept your deal then I knew I could handle anything." She replied with a slight stalwart smile as she placed the rose in the vase on the center of the table.

The fiend couldn't help but grin at her courageous words. "But what about your hopes and dreams?"

"Well, at a time I did want to see the world. Foreign lands, far away kingdoms, different places of sand and stone and sea." She smiled wistfully, as she propped herself back up on the table, and smiled a tad mischievously. "That part didn't really work out, but I had enough courage to save my fathers kingdom."

"And what about…" The beast paused for a moment, trying to chalk up his bravery. He truly didn't want to bring up Gaston, but he had to, he needed to make certain. "Your betrothed." He finished, feigning careless interests as he flourished his fingers lazily through the air. "Surely you must miss the man you were about to wed."

The chestnut haired beauty's features scrunched up slightly at the words as if a bad taste was in her mouth. Gaston: brute, hunter, knight could there have been any worse mismatch in history? "Truth be told, I never much cared for Gaston. My father arranged the marriage when he began to grow ill. He wanted to be certain the people had another king ready when his time came." She replied quietly when thinking of her papa. "I never loved him. No, to me love is layered; veiled. There are fathoms and depths that we must plunge to get to the true love that lay beneath shrouds that surround our hearts and souls." She replied; looking directly into his midnight gaze fearlessly.

The Dark One's throat tightened at her words, his heart drumming crazily in his chest. Those words; almost the exact ones she had used in her letter. Could she really…might she…?

He had to make certain, he had to be positive before…before what?

"Enough about me." Belle remarked as she leaned towards him curiously; not willing to give up her interest so easily. "We were discussing your son. Will you tell me about him?"

"I'll make you a deal." He stated suddenly, a smile fighting to bloom across his face as his tone shook in anxiousness. "Go to the village and fetch me some straw. When-" _If _he wanted to say but bit it back. "You return I'll share my tale."

Go to the village? Belle's mind reeled at the words as they echoed in her mind like some unbelievable tale. With all she knew, with his angry words long ago telling her she'd never leave; never see another person he was allowing her to go to town. "But…you forbade me from venturing past the castle walls? You trust me to come back?" She asked in shock.

"Not at all." He replied forlornly with a demure smile; his heart twisting in agony.

The test, the only _true _test that he could give her was to set her free to see if she did come back. His heart felt as if it was drowning in a sea of despair, but he had to know. "In fact, I doubt I will never see you again…" The fiend admitted mournfully, hoping the hoarseness in his voce did not betray the disparity he felt thrashing his soul.


	26. Choices

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hug, cookies, and love to all! :3_

**~8~8~**

Freedom. Belle could hardly believe it even as she slowly, nearly dazedly, strolled down the quaint meandering forest path that led to the village hidden in the shadow of the mountain. Her burden was light with only a wicker basket slung at the crook of her arm, and her cloak shifting behind her with every slow disbelieving step.

Freedom. The word should have made her heart sing, it should have bolted through her body like light banishing back encroaching despair, it should have added speed to her limbs to clamber away as far away from the Dark One as humanly possible; finally away from the odd…thing that was Rumpelstiltskin.

And yet, while she was glad freedom had been bestowed upon her there was no joy in her soul. The word tasted of bitter bile on her tongue, and burned her heart as vile poison flowing through her veins. She was not free in the truest sense. He had not given her anything that marked her as no longer a slave, nor had he actually told her she was no more in his thrall.

She had been granted leave to go to town to acquire him more straw for his wheel, but Rum had made it obvious if she never came back he would not pursue her as some runaway slave who had broken their deal. It was an unspoken freedom, read between the lines her masters orders, but freedom nonetheless.

He had let her go freely, without repercussion or revenge to come back or go as she saw fit. It should have been simple, she should have walked to the village and kept on walking; peals of glorious laughter and tear of joy with every step further away from her masters citadel, like any normal woman would who'd just been unfettered from a life of slavery to her freedom back to a lavish life as a princess with her father instead of a simple drudge.

Yet she found herself torn and undecided.

Before her stood an assiduous life of freedom, family, friends, hope, dreams all waiting to be grasped and coddled and pursued, while behind stood thralldom and servitude and slavery and…_him_. The choice should have been obvious, but for the chestnut haired beauty it was the hardest decision she'd ever had to consider. Even harder than the choice to lay her life at his mercy and give up all she'd known.

On one hand was her aging, wonderful father and the kingdom she had loved enough to sell herself for, while in the other held a sweet yet volatile master whose whims changed as easily as the breeze.

A grimace punctuated her lips into one hard thin line as she tried to banish the thoughts away until she got to the village so perhaps she could savor the sweetness of freely being out and about once again before she had to make her decision.

The sky was awash with billowing slate iron gray clouds that veiled the blazing sun behind their thick forlorn shrouds. A harsh blustering spring shower had come and gone earlier with only a few spattering driblets still tumbling from the overcast firmament making a fresh cleansing earthy scent to rise from the verdant land surrounding her.

The russet haired beauty paused her trek, sniffing the warm muggy noontide air appreciatively when she heard the sharp whinny of horse and the jangling of saddles and bridles nearing.

Turning about, Belle's azure eyes immediate fell upon the knights armored in midnight black plate, gruffly spurring their equally as dark giant war horses clad in sable and crimson livery to a sharp military canter.

An onyx carriage that appeared to clash with the lush greenery all about like some sickening tainted blot amidst the forest sat in the very center of the entourage of guardsmen gilded in silver and gold with finely latticed lace covering the windows to keep the person who resided inside invisible to the world.

Having lived all her life in court Belle knew a nobles carriage when she spied one. Dipping her head faintly in respect to the coach and its retinue so that they'd bypass her without hassle, the beauty stepped aside to wait for the small company to ride on.

The whole entourage of stonily silent knights and lavish carriage had about thoroughly passed when the beauty heard the horses rear nearly simultaneously to a stop in a strict Calvary fashion.

Her heart jerked fearfully in her chest as her startling cobalt eyes watched the coachman bear his beasts to halt so that the carriage rolled to a lazy stop.

A part of her sensiblites being urged her to flee for the safety of the thick tangled forest where horses and battle clad knights would be hard pressed to pursue her through the coarse undergrowth and upraised roots of the ancient trees, but she forced herself to remain calm and composed defending her innocence and due respect she had shown for the entourage and its cargo who reclined laconically inside the expensive carriage.

Still, her heart twisted with a tinge of dread as the coach door swung open; the black gloved hand on its latch almost looking akin to a curled raven's talon clutching the knob.

"Did my carriage splash you?" A somewhat friendly feminine voice asked right before her head popped out of the door to look back at the tensed beauty.

There was something …odd about the voice, as if she might have heard it before, but Belle merely offered a small hard fought smile whilst shaking her head mildly. "Not at all. The roads are mostly dry now. No need to trouble yourself." She assured the lovely if not veiled woman before her who seemed to be just hiding something under the pleasant upturn of her lips and the 'chipper' timbre in her voice that sounded far out of place.

Timidly, almost like she was trying to slip past a ravenous wolf, the amber haired beauty cautiously began to walk again, steeling her nerve with the knowledge that her master required her to fetch straw…even though she might not come back at least it was an excuse away from the ominous coach.

"You know I'm sudden weary of riding in this bumpy old cart." The pallid, beautiful woman stated so suddenly and casually it slightly startled Belle. "You don't appear to be some sort of murderous brigand so I'll just stretch my legs and stroll along with you."

Belle could barely get a word out before the noble lady suddenly stood beside her, her black umbrella unfurled against the slight drizzle as she padded alongside Belle at a lucid pace.

The freed beauty didn't know what it was about the woman, but she put her on an edge that made her wish to put as much distance away from her as humanly possible, yet she could see no reason to want to flee. The curious if not surreptitious woman seemed amicable enough.

Flashing the uninvited walking companion a faint smile, Belle hoped her taciturn demeanor would push the woman away, but not in any disrespectful manner that might have her sick her brutish guardsmen on her for offence.

"You carry little for being so deep in the forest with villages miles and miles apart." The woman observed wryly as she slipped her arm around Belle's shoulder as if they had been long bosom friends.

Belle fought back a sickening shiver at the somehow familiar touch, but nodded in reply as she kept her eyes focused upon the muddy terrain that snaked before them.

Regina smirked inwardly at the slave's simple reply. "Which can only mean you're running from something?" The witch continued undeterred by Belle's quietness. Quirking her head slightly to the left, her teal glassy eyes measured the beauty intently; her lips pursed. "So which is it, master or lover?"

The flagrant boldness of the woman! Belle felt something akin to angry offense stir within her, but also trepidation that this woman whose name she didn't even now was suddenly coming to all these conclusion as if Belle had emptied her heart to her!

"Ah, both." The queen remarked gently, reading Belle's thoughts as if they had been plastered on her forehead. A slight chuckle oozed from Regina's lips as the pair turned a bend in the quaint forest trail. "Don't be offended by my observations, girl. I've made a spectacular living reading what lay in others hearts. And I can see that you are frightfully torn a twixt your desires."

Turning her head to the odd noble, Belle felt a bit of wariness for the woman but read only a genuine sincerity on her sharp frighteningly pale features that made her wish to speak freely. "Master. I'm running from my master." She finally admitted quietly; slightly biting her lower lip in indecision, before she tilted her head down. "At least I think I'm running from him…"

"And that's where the love comes in, doesn't it?" Regina concluded slyly, her glossy ruby lips twitching upwards.

The beauty shrugged, more to try to get the strange woman's arm from around her shoulders than revealing she was unsure. "I suppose. I love him and I think he may love me, but…"

"But…?" Regina echoed tenderly, trying to coax the rest out of Belle.

"Something foul, evil is rooted deep inside his soul clutched in a death grip around his heart festering in his spirit. Can I truly love a man with such darkness? Can he love me?" The chestnut haired beauty contemplated more to herself than Regina.

"It sounds like your man has gotten entangled in a curse." The witch remarked coyly; tactfully lacing her tone with a touch of concern. She shrugged slightly as if being entrenched in a curse wasn't a huge issue. "It can be broken easily enough. True Loves kiss breaks any curse."

Belle ground to a jolted halt at the sudden, turning fully to the wealthy lady fair beside her. "You…you mean if there was a curse binding him to be this evil thing a kiss could break the dark magic's?" She asked eagerly, hope flitting the turmoil layered upon her heart.

"Do I recommend planting a kiss upon your slaver?" Regina chuckled slightly; shaking her head an inch. "No, no, just imagine what kind of message _that _would send. But if you truly, truly desire to know if he loves you as much as you seem to love him then not only will it do the trick, it will also rid your master of the evil lurking inside."

_And leave me the most powerful of them all!_ Regina thought victoriously, but kept her smile pleasant and cheerful.

"My, my we've walked quite a distance." The vile monarch stated in feigned surprise.

They hadn't gone far at all, but Belle nodded in agreement, hoping to persuade the woman to leave. "Indeed we have. I thank you for your advice; I'll consider it, I promise."

With that, thankfully, the noble hopped back into the carriage that had been vapidly trailing at a respectful distance and was off with the sharp crack of a whip against the horse's flanks and a rattling splash, leaving Belle the lone soul on the trailing path to consider the words of the witch.

Inside the darkened carriage that rattled and shook relentlessly upon the uneven road, Regina sat pondering the interaction, modestly pleased with herself even though it had not gone at all as she'd intended.

When the beauty had first stepped foot from the estate, she had known and had quickly formed her guard and carriage; preparing to teleport them all to the road the lass had been traversing in order to capture her.

The plan had been so simple. Regina would pretend she were some generous noble to offer a peasant girl a free trip to town in a lavish carriage, check to make sure the foul toad Rumpel was no where lurking about and vanish with his prized slave to hold her hostage for little favors from the Dark One or simply break his heart by slaughtering his little trinket and giving him her heart as a sordid gift.

It could have all been possible save for one thing - the cloak. The vile sorceress hissed in pain as she tenderly massaged her now exposed arm that had been looped around Belle's shoulder. The flesh under the black gossamer of her sleeve was red and bruised and stung as if she had been physically burned by hot coals. Magic, Rumpelstiltskin had endowed the cloak to protect the girl from others magic.

Oh but things had not gone terrible, being the crafty woman that she was, she had simply played the new cards dealt her with perhaps a bit more promise than her first scheme. If of course, Belle decided to return to her master.

A broad sly grin slowly manifested upon her face at the twist of how things had turned out. Now, she perceived, running with her new unexpected plot, would be an excellent time to go visit the Dark One…

~8~8~

The little village of Ogre's End was a desolate place as Belle had ever seen. The thatch and mud hovels were squashed together and run down with age. Small, dirty children ran amidst yelping dogs as they played their own little games, while wrinkled, calloused adults worked or watched the children with small sad smiles as the drudged through the misery of their lives.

The town square that was little more than a wide patch of dirt had only a few stalls selling some aging fly ridden produce and game along with a few trinkets here and there that sat tinged and tarnished on their stands; unwanted and useless.

Besides all that, the place was abuzz with activity as people walked hither and thither chatting and toiling and living out their provincial lives in the small village nestled by the dark forest.

Belle walked amidst the throngs of people keeping her hood low and head bowed trying not to draw attention, even though she knew she received get a few odd glances here and there, but people, gratefully, minded their own business and let her be without inquiry or hassle.

"E-excuse me, but do you know where I might purchase straw?" Belle asked one of the stall keepers quietly.

The scruffy vendor, a baker by trade, who was hawking his wares of coarse grainy bread, eyed her incredulously for a moment before nodding curtly. "That way." He grunted distempered; stabbing a thick finger in some vague direction.

"Forgive me, but I don't really no my way about. Could you help m-?" She began respectfully only to be paused by a cruel snort.

"Listen, lass I isn't got time to hold your hand and show you about. The place small and squalid enough. Use what little brains you have and get." He spat in a snarl before tending to the measly loaves of bread he set out for those who might buy.

"A copper for you aid?" Belle inquired with a slight tilt in her head as she produced a glistening coin. Darkness would soon be falling in the land, and she was none to keen to waste anymore time out and about in the veils of harsh night than she had to.

The plump man grinned, his attitude suddenly of gaudy flattery and helpfulness. "Well well, I can see helping a lost young lass like yourself now. My wife Marie will watch the stand. I'll be back in a tick."

With that, the horrid man was off, leaving Belle to watch the little children darting about the adults legs in their games of chase, whooping and hollering in childish delight amidst the bustle of the tiny market.

The beauty strolled aimlessly to a few stalls over where a sparse collection of trinkets sat forgotten and uncared for in a unkempt pile. One thing, a pinned clasp furnished of what looked large enough to be beasts fangs sat nestled amidst the clutter.

A smile bloomed upon her face as she thought or Rum and how he termed himself a monster. Finding the owner she inquired the price and promptly paid for the small trinket. Stowing it away in the basket as she continued her gaze upon the throngs of rag clothed people. The tiny village had its own bucolic charms, if everyone didn't look so downtrodden by life and fate.

"Gosh you're awful pretty." A squeaky adolescent voice suddenly stated, startling Belle from her mindful wandering that was slowly turning back to her choice to go back to Rum or back home.

Looking down she saw a young wide eyed boy, clad all in green, his shaggy brown hair falling about his eyes; looking up at her in sheer awe.

Putting a hand to her head, Belle realized her hood had slid off allowing her amber honey curls to tumble down her shoulders.

Kneeling to the child she grinned amiably. "Why thank you, little one. You're quite the dashing prince yourself."

The small, dirty child blushed slightly as he rocked back and forth bashfully at Belle's compliment. "You're new here." He pointed out. "Where did you come from?"

"You speak truth, I am new." Belle admitted with a nod. "And I come from many leagues from here in a land far, far away."

"I live very far away to! I go back there sometimes to look after my boys when I'm bored." The lad replied, his gaze searching the misty gray sky before falling back to Belle. "But this is your home now?" He asked in child's innocence.

Belle turned her gaze away watched the towering jagged frosted peaks of the mountain, her heart aching a little. "It has been for a small while."

"Which home do you like best?" He inquired while scratching his lice ridden hair.

The beauty paused at the question, having never considered it before. "I thought my old home." She replied quietly after some time pondering the enlightened words. "Yet the one I live in now seems…right. Like all my life I should have been there, and I find myself wondering why I never had discovered it before."

"I've lived lots and lots of places and played with lots and lots of kids. Some places were nicer than most some times I want to go back to those places." The boy revealed before cocking his head slightly to the side. "Do you want to go back to your old home?"

"Maybe." The beauty sighed forlornly; heaving her shoulders in a faint indecisive shrug. "If you had asked me that a year ago I would have said yes. But now I am…torn."

The young lad grinned widely giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder. "When I cant choose what game to play I always sit hard and think which one I like the most. I know I'm going to miss playing with the others who play the game I decided not play but I just go with my gut." He nodded rapidly.

"That's actually very wise advice." Belle laughed gaily; struck by the child's surprising wisdom. Sometimes children had the best, if not simplest, answers to life's more puzzling problems.

"I know." The child assured her proudly. "I've had a very long time to think on things you know."

Belle grinned at the child's bravado as she shook her grubby hand. "Well thank you my little prince." Her eyes narrowed inquisitively as she thought she spied something…different about the boy that belayed his wisdom. "What's your name?" She asked curiously.

"Peter." The boy replied with a wide grin. "Peter Pan."

"Well, many thank, Pete-" She got no further as a shriek that could have awakened the dead rose up from very close behind her.

While she had been talking with the boy, the baker's wife had tried her long time skill of pick pocketing the unawares. She had stealthily, for a rather large woman, tried and nearly successfully managed to nab the coin purse under Belle's cloak with out the beauties knowledge.

Instead, when her plump, greedy hand been about to grasp the drawstrings, she had seen the crest of the Dark One knit inside the folds of the cloak, the clawed green dragon upon a bed of gold as clear as day marking it an item of Rumpelstiltskin's make.

"What's going on?" The baker asked alarmed as he appeared with the haymaker trailing behind him with his rickety warped wooden cart of straw.

The wife clambered away from Belle as if she were a demon clawed up from the maw of hell; her watery eyes wide with terror as continued to back away in hysteria. "You're her." She gasped in awed shock. "You…you're the Dark One's servant! I thought it was only gossip!"

Immediately low mumbles echoed about the market square like a low rumble of thunder in the distant peaks as everyone seemed to speak at once. People turned to catch a glimpse of her, even though terror was swelling amidst them as they chatted with the person beside them.

"The Dark One's slave!"

"What's she doing here?"

"That poor lass…"

"Hide your children!"

A person ill with plague couldn't have emptied the market square faster as terrified villagers dove for their homes and their neighbors hovels for safety; hauling up children bodily and shooing them into homes to be away from the beasts slave.

In a few heartbeats all that remained in the dust filled square were the trembling baker and his wife and the hay cart lying abandoned on its side, one wheel still slowly turning.

"Milady! Forgive us!" The baker cried trembling, tears of petrifaction coursing down his corpulent, wobbling face. Both he and his wife fell to their knees, their hands clasps together in pleading to keep from trembling. "Please spare us, milady! We ain't no who you was; honest to heaven we didn't!"

Belle stood there blinking in shock at the deserted square and the blubbering pair before her. Did they fear her master so much? While she had at first been wary of him nothing like the terror they showed was ever present inside her.

"Get off your knees. I'm not going to harm anyone. I just want to purchase some straw." Belle announced clearly hoping that might make them stop sobbing and begging for mercy.

"Take anything you want, I'll pay for it!" The baker cried pitifully.

Seeing there was no reasoning with the hysterical terrified pair, Belle simply walked over to the straw and took as much as needed before leaving a few coins by the cart.

Tucking it away in her basket the beauty stood alone in the middle of the square, the pair having scrambled off to cower in their shop and wait for their supposed doom leaving Belle to finally make her decision.

On one end of the now deserted terrified village led to her papa, if he still lived, a home she had once known and cared for. While the other lead through the darkened wood, back towards the stoic icy gray Dark Castle where Rumpelstiltskin had all but handed her freedom, but perhaps offered something more if she returned.

_When I can't choose the game I want to play I always sit hard and think about which game I like the most. I know I'm going to miss playing with the others who play the game I decided not play but I just go with my gut._

Those where the words the odd young boy had spoken, yet it wasn't so much her gut as her heart making the final choice. Where did it yearn to be the most? Where did it plead to be; with her father or with her master?

Wherever it pined for, Belle promised herself to trust where her heart belonged, and what her soul craved.

Taking a deep breath she stood quietly for a moment, listening to the dull thud of her heart, her mind a whirl of blinding thoughts and memories and choices, before she suddenly turned away from the ominous frost capped mountains; looking towards the way to home and awaiting family.

"I'm sorry, Papa, but I love him." She whispered upon the wind as if it would ferry her words directly to her father's ears in hopes that he'd understand her choice.

A solitary sad tear glistened in the evening sun as it rolled down her porcelain cheek before she began walking towards the jagged mountains and the Dark Castle, her heart wanting to burst in a strange joy that wafted inside her with every step.


	27. Gone Away

_A/N: Thanks all for reading and reviewing much love to you all!_

**~8~8~**

Ugly clods of gray churning clouds cast their depressed luminance in the uppermost gnarled spire of Rumpelstiltskin's apothecary, coloring even the most vibrant tinted potion or elixir into a demure hue that mirrored the magical monsters own feelings that festered inside his sorrowful soul.

The Dark One's onyx eyes dutifully trailed the beauty's every jouncing step as he watched her depart freely from his ominous citadel; unfettered, and without a threat hanging over her head if she should not return to her master.

The fiend stared blankly; silently plaintive out the towering filthy glass window of his potion room, now brashly flung open to the despoiled dim afternoon, that cast the large chamber in an ashen gray light revealing its unkemptness to the world it had so long been sequestered from.

A sharp grimace marbled upon his gray-gold features as his sharp eyes followed the tiny speck that was Belle, clad in her fine gossamer cloak, trudge down the smoothed winding mountain trail that ultimately meandered to the fringes of the darkened woods and the snaking path cut in its midst; the only safe way through the defiled forest.

His ebony orbs narrowed slightly as they sat pinioned upon her figure at the very border of his territory. Any moment he suspected to witness cheering, and cries of happiness at her newly found emancipation; he imagined her throwing down the wicker basket, perhaps screaming a cry of joy, and speeding down the dirt path like a frightened rabbit fleeing a starving wolf.

She turned around, suddenly, much to his surprise, staring intently at the Dark Castle as if it were some puzzling curiosity. Emotions of indecision etched plainly upon her lovely features, her brow furrowed furtively, as she stood frozen there at the edge of his estate.

A few tenuous moments passed, that made the Dark One's heart lurch in his chest before his Belle heaved a burdened sigh as if she were lugging an invisible load-some weight draped about her shoulders and turned back into the depths or the bleak forest until she was impressively camouflaged amidst the lush verdant greenery even to his dragon like eye sight.

A gusty breath of air bellowed forlornly past the magical monsters thin gray lips as he peered at the very last spot he had seen her before she was truly out of his gaze and land. His hand curled into a tight fist of anger and doubt as he hammered it against the thick stone wall, causing little chunks of stone and granules of gray grit to crust away and sprinkle to the filthy floor.

"You let her go." He hissed hatefully at himself; almost sounding akin to a curse. "You stupid, ignorant, creature; you let her go!"

That was it; he knew with a sullenness that stung his heart like poisonous bite, she was gone most likely forever; never again to tread foot upon his palace of her own free will.

His forehead touched the sun warmed glass pane of the window, as he clamped his sable eyes tightly as if trying to sear the last clear image he had of her into his mind for all eternity.

She had stood at the threshold of his palace, a wicker basket slung on her arm, her cloaks hood veiling her maple brown locks from the torrents of rain that were just begging to taper away with the warm zephyr of spring that drifted the sweet fragrance of the season through the air, and a sad smile marbled upon her porcelain features.

In the one of the pockets of her cloak she had a large brown leather coin purse bursting with a king's ransom in a menagerie of glistening gold, silver, and copper coins. They were by far more than was needed to pick up a basket full of common straw, but if she chose not to return he would much rather have her able to afford the long, hard venture home with coin than as a penniless vagabond, begging for scraps and shelter, like a wandering wastrel.

Her burden was little; no more than a light flaxen wicker basket slung upon the crook of her arm, but with every step he felt as if she were hauling his heart away.

He might have worried of bandits along the ancient dirt path, if she wasn't journeying through the Dark Wood. Brigands forwent the shaded glades of evil altogether; warned and weaned on the harrowing stories told about the vile forest.

The evil in the glades of darkness wouldn't dare harm Belle, nor any vicious animal on the prowl to acquire an easy meal. Rumpel had seen to that when he'd so fastidiously crafted the cloak. There was a subtle magic that let the other magically inclined persons or elements, and ravenous beasts of the woods know that she was his property, his prize, his treasure, his Belle, and if they decided they didn't desire to see the gates of oblivion they'd best stay away from what was his.

A small unwarranted smile tugged faintly at the edge of his lips at the thought that even if… no, he shook his head to correct himself dourly, _when _she decided she wasn't coming back he would still be protecting her from harm of slashing claws and gnashing fangs that wished to rip her asunder.

There was, of course, no plausible reason for her to return. He had spirited her away from all she'd ever known and thrashed her life apart to dwell with him for all eternity. Now she had a chance to go back to her old life, even better now that the idiot Gaston was no more than a wilting rose, to live her life in peace and happiness and prosperity.

He fought back a hard lump forming in the base of his throat as he prayed to whatever deity still looked upon his vileness with an inkling of mercy, that one day when she dwelled back in her fathers kingdom there would be a handsome young husband at her side, who was kind and loving and gentle and by far more deserving of her love than he.

All he dare wish for what that she would come across the gifted cloak one day, in some distant future and perhaps think kindly of him and the moments spent quietly reading in the library or strolling about the grounds.

He hoped that she would be lost in the throes of reminiscence and recall life not being so horrid in his manor, and perhaps smile at the memory of a few of his terrible quips that brought a grin to her face.

"Be happy, Belle, that's all I want." He whispered hoarsely in dejection, even though he knew the wishful words were a blatant lie; his breath misting a bit of the dirty glass as he stared upon the last place she had stood.

For that wasn't all he desired. True, he wanted her to be happy, always that, yet in his deepest deapth of his black soul he wanted her to be happy with him.

~8~8~

Even though the fiend valiantly attempted to press on with a normal day in the Dark Castle he found it nigh but impossible to resume his normal works.

In his apothecary he would find himself staring blankly out the now opened window to the darkened glades that sprawled below, instead of attending to the elixirs and regents in his talons or upon his work bench.

More than one expensive potion or tonic had been ruined because of his distraction, of clinging to some naïve, foolish hope to see the green and gold cloak appear from the forest below.

When the last serum for breathing underwater went awry, he perceptively decided to step away from the vials of magic's and oils until he could properly concentrate and not conjure an explosion from his inept attitude.

If Belle did decide to come back, there would really be no reason for her return if she discovered him an oily puddle on the floor or splattered across the room from a potion gone awry!

For a while he simply trod the dim apertures and drafty corridors of the Dark Castle like a lonely dismal specter of a haunted abode searching for peace or companionship, yet never finding what it sought no matter how many times it wafted the dank hallways and spiraling stairs.

The fiend let another harsh sad sigh pass his lips as he slowly meandered down the torch light walkways as silent as a shadow. Belle hadn't been gone for a longer length than three hours but he was already feeling lonely. He missed her soft voice and wise words and observations and quips, and her laugh.

Her laugh! Rum closed his eyes and leaned against a stalwart gray column, at the pleasant thought trying to recall the sweet laughter that bubbled from her. By heaven it was fair enough to make the loveliest bird sound akin to most raucous crow.

He missed the company she kept him when he spun or when they ate meals.

Her words had been correct that early morn before the clouds had billowed in with their sullen burden of torrid rain. He was lonely, terribly so, and now having Belle gone made it feel even more desolate than when he was all by his lonesome before.

The Dark Castle was an eternal cold mausoleum with out its caretaker; a huge coffin meant to crawl and fester inside when he had nowhere to go. Belle had given the ominous ciatdel life and light and love, so that it was truly a beautiful home instead of a moldy crypt.

But no, he scolded himself roundly; cursing his weakness of heart with a disgusted snarl. He refused to think about her, he couldn't, she was gone now and forever. But he couldn't forget her, never that, he might have had better luck being the blue fairy than attempting to banish Belle from his mind.

A hard grimace formed at his lips as he strode grimly to the main hall, determined to try and rid the beauty from his mind anyway even though he knew it all to be futile. But anything to help balm the gaping hole left in his chest at her depature was a welcome.

The spring day was warm, even given the shower that soaked the earth to quench its thirst had brought a touch of chill back to the land.

Belle had flung open the curtains earlier letting the golden rays of the sun that managed to fitfully break through the iron clouds seep into the main hall engulfing it with warmth.

The Dark One sat entranced by the hypnotic cycle of the wheel, watching it conjure the very last stalks of his store of straw into shimmering golden thread that coiled about a spindle.

He needed to forget about Belle, but everything still _felt _of her, from the freshly dusted trinkets to the huge chair sitting regally in front of the fireplace. The fiend even imagined he smelled her warm honeysuckle aroma wafting temptingly through the mild air.

More than once he had opened his mouth to order her to fetch the blue and white tea kettle, only to halt right before the words sprang from his lips; just remembering she would never serve their afternoon tea again.

He didn't know why, but that thought brought a dull ache to his chest as if a giant's fist had slammed into him with all it's strength; pummeling him with that knowledge that tore at his soul.

A knock on the door, gratefully yanked him out of his dire contemplations that rested on discarding the memory of his slave away. For a split second his heart clenched in a vice so powerful he was sure it stopped its precocious beat as if squeezed by some intangible claw.

Could it be Belle? Could she have realized, while walking away never to return, that she loved him and wanted to be with him?

Stumbling off the stool like some clumsy frantic child, the fiend raced to the door with the promise of hope speeding his limbs, but then forced himself to a more lax pace, not to appear desperate or so vagrantly happy at the joy bursting inside.

With a twitch of his nimble talons he commanded the doors to open, and found himself glad he ensorcelled himself in his usual sordid apathy; making it seem all was as it should be.

Regina stood easily at the huge double doors, her onyx umbrella up to shield away the last driblets of rain that fell from the clouded firmament. "Well, Rumpel old friend, are you going to keep me standing her like a common vagabond?" The evil witch asked in a rottenly honeyed voice that vaguely veiled her disgust for him; her plucked brow raised.

"Ah, Regina. How utterly beastly of me, majesty. If I had known it was you I would have raced to the door with the speed of a snail." He trilled off-handedly; his impish grin splayed wide upon his face though he became instantly on his guard for some trick. She didn't visit much, for she thoroughly detested his lavish citadel as proof of his vast powers that mastered her own.

The wicked monarch sighed languidly as she cantered inside that clean, but dim castle and tossed her wet umbrella carelessly on the polished stone. "No need for apologies. I've grown accustomed to your horrid beastly ways, Rumpel dear." She replied carelessly as they strolled to the main hall.

"Well, your majesty; what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He asked in his usual giddy timbre; offering her an overly extravagant mock bow as they entered the room cascaded with light.

Regina's glossy crimson lips pursed in displeasure at his mocking, but merely shrugged as she laconically wiggled her delicate gloved hands to conjure a matching black fan to her grasp.

Fluttering the magical item through the air as if being in his wretched palace left a foul stench, Regina scowled behind the lazily pumping fan in order not to give the fiend the pleasure of seeing her uncomfortable with the light vaulting down upon them from the open windows. "Just come to chat. You know I never had the opportunity to talk much since that meeting you spirited yourself away from. I heard what that conniving Maleficent did with the Wonderland bottle. I was shocked she tried to betray you after so long of your being allies."

"That was months ago." He countered dryly, a muscle, nearly unnoticeable, twitching in his jaw that told Regina it still upset him. The displeasure was gone a blink later as he grinned in his sinister, teasing manner. "Tell me, majesty, why truly come to my humble abode, eh? Snow still giving you trouble?"

"Actually no. Not as yet." Regina admitted truthfully with a sneer. Her hand flew up to her neck were the rosy pink spiral coral conch had one rested in the hollow of her throat. "Mermaid trouble I'm afraid. The blasted thing actually managed to break my spell, something about true loves kiss. It broke through my curse. Isn't it odd how some people can frighteningly surprise you? One moment you think them sweet and harmless, the next-" The witch paused rolling her eyes in annoyance. "They can cause irreparable damage even to the strongest of us."

Rum held back an annoyed sigh, still keeping his wide, sly grin marbled upon his scaly gray-gold features. "So what exactly brought you all this way your majesty? To cry your tale of woe at a failed plot? To relate some fable of caution? Or plead for a spell that twill make all right in your favor again?"

"Perish the thought, Rumpel!" Regina crowed in mock indignity; a hand set to her chest as she looked at him aghast. "I only come for a quantity of your fine thread."

Thread. Straw. Even though he tried to fight it the words made him wince to think back to Belle going to fetch him more.

In the unlikely possibility that she came back, the fiend was none to keen on letting the vile harpy before him meet his wonderful Belle. Regina had a long history or tampering with the only good things in life and he would be hell bent if she tried to coerce Belle in some fashion!

A wicked gleam flashed sharply in his ebony orbs as her nodded. "Very well, but as always it's not something for nothing, Dearie. If you manage to come out the victor of the little mess you've made with the mere-folk then I desire King Tritons Trident."

"Done." The vile sorceress replied immediately. Proffering her hand through the air she slipped through the magical barrier of the Dark One's overwhelming power of magic and simply spirited away as much golden twine as she needed.

A dark satisfied grin weaseled upon the witches frighteningly pallid features as she nodded once to the fiend before turning back to the double doors. "A pleasure as always, Rumple." She paused for a moment at the threshold that led to the huge double doors and looked back slightly at him, a smirk etched to her glossy ruby lips. "But remember what I said about harmless people doing irreparable damage." With that she strode away as regal as a monarch could, seemingly floating instead of walking.

~8~8~

After about an hour of attempting to weave the last remnants of his straw he had given up to finally submit what he had been fighting all day, and watch the road from his lofty solitary perch in his apothecary.

Regina's words had some validity to him, and even though he was trying to delve deeper into the mystery of why she possibly needed such a large portion of his hoarded glimmering thread, he felt himself being tugged along the road to sleep in the pleasant warmth of evening.

The early spring warmth made all fall into a lull of slow monotony that wove its spell about the Dark One who felt himself drifting to the realm of slumber.

His eyelids seem akin to lead weights that refused to fall away no matter what he did to stay focused and attentive. Soon, his whole body slumped forward leaving him caught in the mire of his dreams…

"_Belle, Belle, Belle, Belle!" Her name was roared all about him by hundreds if not thousands of voices both of dainty, noble speech and the coarse tongue of peasantry all bellowing her name as one glorious word. _

_Rumpelstiltskin winced at the raucous noise that battered him from all sides and screeched in mind as he walked along a dirty puddle dotted path in the middle of the darkened forest. _

_The day was blisteringly hot and bright even with the leaf strewn canopy laced above them. The sun managed to pierce through in all it's unrelenting brilliance, nearly blinding overhead with the merciless eye of a desert orb unblinking down at him as if in accusation. _

_Squinting his ebony eyes to fight off the glare, a brilliantly white steed clad lasciviously in blue livery and tack walked regally in front of him while sitting in the saddle was Belle. _

_She looked every inch a princess garbed in a flowing robe of satiny blue silk that was sleeveless with her chestnut locks interwoven with white and amethyst lilies tumbling in an array of loose curls down her bare shoulders. _

_She sat proudly upon the horse waving her hand regally to the adoring throngs that cheered her name, as flutes and lyres and drums played in tandem with their cheers. _

"_Belle!" Rum called out happily, wanting her to turn back and come to him. _

_The fiend attempted to break the pace he strode at behind her only to stumble hard and fall with the dreaded clanking sound of rattling iron in his ears that jangled in some deathly mocking echo. _

_He landed just in front of one of the muddy puddles that unfortunatly reflected his form and state. Gray-gold flesh and voided midnight eyes like eternal pits of darkness still met his gaze instead of the man Rumpelstiltskin. _

_He was still the horrid, wretched Dark One save now there was a thick iron collar clamped chokingly about his neck. He tremulously moved his hands to touch the band of cold steel, only to find shackles slapped around his wrists with a heavy chain that led down to binds cruelly dug into the flesh of his ankles. _

_Shocked, his head shot up back to Belle as if she might have looked back at his condition. She did look back, but to his horror he saw no pity for him, no love, no mercy, just hate. Sheer undeterred hate that seemed to glow and emanate off her like a pulse of darkness that coiled covetously about her heart. _

_The people had also started shouting something different than praise. Now their voices growled like angry snapping wolves about to attack as they hurled their hate and evil at him. "Kill the beast, kill the beast!" _

"_On your feet, animal!" Belle snarled angrily, her cerulean eyes blazing in rage as she viciously jerked the chain attached to the collar around his neck. The cruel move sent him sprawling into the fetid muddy puddle which started another rise of cheers for Belle._

_Stunned, the fiend felt himself half staggering half being dragged behind the ivory steed as realization hit him. _

_Somehow, someway she had defeated him and stripped him of his power so that he was nothing more than a weak wretch. They were screaming her name for she was the heroine who had finally managed to capture the evil creature and bring him to his doom. _

_This wasn't a celebration for her or for them as he had once pleasantly supposed; it was a festivity of his demise. _

"_Belle, help me, please! Let me go!" Rumpel pleaded hoarsely as he fought with all his strength to stay upright and battle against the fetters that held him fast. _

_A harsh sharp laugh erupted callously from her throat as she tilted her head back and howled in amusement at his begging. Before he could say more they were suddenly in the ancient village of his youth, where he had lived all his life before succumbing to the evil of the dagger. _

_Everything looked exactly the same, save mountainous heap of dry wood and kindling in the center of town looking akin to a macabre bonfire celebration of autumn after the harvest. _

_The Dark One's throat went dry to his pleading as he knew what was to happen. They were going to burn him at the stake. _

_He was still numb with terror even as they clapped his chains to the thick wooden post dead in the center of the prickly brush and coarse bark that grabbed at him as clawing talons. The sharp scent of oil and fresh tar that would burn long and hot, made him nauseous and want to heave if his stomach hadn't already shriveled with fright. _

_His mouth only began working again as one noble or other handed the beauty a wildly guttering torch that seemed to dance in hungry anticipation to devour the wood and the man caught in the center. _

"_B-B-Belle, Belle please, I beg you don't do this!" He managed to choke out; his eyes stapled to the flittering flame as it drew nearer. "Have mercy, please!"_

_To his surprise and utmost relief she dropped the torch far away from the dry, crackling wood that would have been up in an inferno in mere seconds, making a shuddering sigh tremble through his shackled form. _

_He watched her in relief as she hitched up her lovely gown and precariously climbed the small mountain of sticks and debris until she came face to face with him._

_Her delicate work-worn hand smoothed across his scaly cheek, banishing his fears with her mere touch. "I will grant you mercy, Rumpelstiltskin." She replied tenderly, so much like the Belle he knew only a short few hours ago. Her hand gently rested upon his tattered and torn leather jerkin, which made his shoulders slump in ease._

"_I will grant you the mercy of death." She hissed violently, not sounding like Belle at all, but like a victorious, gloating Regina. _

_The glint of light off steel caught his eyes as she hefted the dark dagger that had his name scrawled upon it up to the air. Before he could say a word of protest she plunged it down to his chest; laughing manically as it pierced his flesh and dug into his black heart. _

Rumpel awoke with a cry of terror, his hands involuntarily trying to raise up to protect his form against the daggers cruel, hungry steel that had seemed so real only a moment before.

All was dark in his apothecary, which only led to more confusion as he tried to scramble up from the window seat, but stumbled around in the voided darkness until he rested against a cold stone wall that brought back some steadiness to his tactile mind.

His breath shot out in short rapid gasps as he tried to quell the insidious thudding of his heart which felt as if it might burst from his chest.

That dream had been to real; far, far to real for his liking. His trembling, dexterous talons went to his heart were he could almost feel the cold steel lodged in his chest.

Inside his mind, however, the darkness was jeering at him; mocking his panic. To think one woman could cause such terror in the Dark One, the all powerful! A little dream had him acting akin to a weak cripple again.

Feeling rather stupid, the magical monster uttered a black curse aloud as he kicked something in his way before summoning a few globules of light into the darkness to illuminate the room.

Everything seemed in its rightful order, save for the pungent tallow-like harmless black liquid he had been vaguely experimenting with pooled and gummed uselessly on the floor and brooked into the cracks in the stone.

He had still been resting on the window ledge when he had dozed off and now it was the late in the night with the lunar orb nestled high in the velvet expanse of night amidst the gems of stars that twinkled merrily above the realms.

An intrepid breath oozed past his lips as he combed his quaking claws through his straggly mess of dirty brown hair. It had been a dream, only something that was probably spawned from Regina quaint little visit. It was nothing but the contemplations of an overworked, sullen, mind.

Kneeling, the fiend snatched up the dropped vial that sat pooled in the dark contents under the window seat, considering the outcome of his minds conjurations.

The dream made no sense; he had the dagger the only true way to defeat him, and Belle was never coming back, not even leading an army of knights. She knew what he was capable of, and while she might be many things, Belle was not stupid. Which is why she had left and was probably resting in an inn at that very moment rejoicing over her fate and figuring out how to make it home.

Giving an uncaring snort to mask the pain he felt with the thought, the Dark One rose with the empty glass vial only to let it drop from his numbed grip a split second later, letting in crack into a myriad of shards, as he looked out the window in stunned disbelief.

Even in the dead of night, far away at the border of his estate, his sharp, magically enhanced eyesight caught Belle trekking back towards the Dark Castle!


	28. True Loves Kiss

_A/N: Thanks all for all the people taking the time to read and for those super stellar reviews, they're all so nice. You guys are awsome ^.^_

**~8~8~**

She had returned! The wondrous thought enveloped Rumpelstiltskin's entire mind as he raced down the cold spiral stairs and the dimly lit corridors with the speed of an eagle soaring upon a favored wind.

The tongues fire guttering in the torch sconces, protruding from the stolid cold walls, danced in a crazy waltz of shadow and flame as he raced by, as if hell itself and all its sundry were nipping at his heels. He was a specter, a phantom flitting upon the ever streaming drafts of cold air of the citadel that ferried him down to the main hall as a soft zephyr does a tufted feather.

Was there joy enough in all the realms to compare to that which utterly swelled in his heart? Life could not offer a being more happiness than what he felt erupting inside him from the first askance glance of his Belle's slender figure marching towards the Dark Castle.

The fiend never knew he could be so utterly happy to see one person in all his long centuries. No one had ever made his soul quiver with flagrant expectations and promise the way Belle did. No one ever made his spirit want to sing as she did.

Frigid loneliness that lurked in the iciest recesses of his tormented, black soul was banished in a wave of warmth that shuddered through him in one massive heave so forceful and puissant, he surely hadn't the first inkling of a clue what was halting him from crying to the rafters in unadulterated glee. Belle was back, Belle was back! Oh for heaven itself he could have sung her name as an anthem for the rest of eternity!

He burst into the main hall like some escaped mad man; his onyx orbs alight with a silver gleam of pleasure that reflected the moons pallid sheen as its beams danced across the chamber; casting the entire room in the gilded silver of its luminous glow.

A wide smile of precipitous jubilee marbled upon his face, with no cruelty or slyness to be seen upon his gray-gold features. For that moment he was not the Dark One, the animal, the cruel, he was simply an extremely joyous _man _who felt he might burst with happiness at any one moment as he pictured her nearing the looming, ominous force that was his home - willingly.

Even at the thought, the fiend barked out a bellowing laugh of glee that rattled his entire form, simply for the thrill of knowing she came back on her own accord; for reasons he reckoned were similar to his own.

Flourishing his fingers through the illuminant night air he conjured flames into the fireplace to warm the hall and to give it a welcomed mulled glow as if the castle in its own way was rejoicing of her return.

The dream he had prior to her arrival was fortuitously cast away as wretched, rank filth, not fit to tarnish and shadow the wonderful thought of his Belle walking down the cobbled path back to the Dark Castle. Back to home, his home, _their _home. He barked out another jubilant laugh simply for the untainted fact she had chosen his citadel to be her home!

A wide, broad smile felt as if it stretched from ear to ear was etched upon his face as he leapt into the air once and clicked his heels together in sheer joy; his usual chortle, once so vile and wicked, had nothing remotely sinister about it as such old hidden emotions that were chained and beaten to the bottom of his heart flooded from him in a wave of glee.

Neither, the fiend knew resolutely, would any sickening remembrances of Regina's foul presences, a bane upon his citadel as a festering little maggot, striding through his stronghold earlier besmirch the glorious knowledge that his Belle was back!

Could there be so much bliss infused into one heart at one time, the fiend pondered whimsically as he fought a string of chortles from rumbling past his throat in glee. Could such happiness ever sanction to grace his black, undeserving soul the way it mantled itself upon him now?

Only her soft cats paw footsteps climbing the hard gray stone steps of the Dark Castle wrenched him violently from his jovial contemplations. His eyes widened as his heart back flipped crazily in his chest at the near silent step of her feet padding along nearer and nearer.

He was to be the Dark One, the most powerful man in the world, yet here he was almost quivering in raw excitement and happiness like a faithful dog awaiting his mistress to be home.

Almost without thinking, and mentally observing more than a little irony from earlier, the devious fiend flung himself ungracefully upon the stool that sat in front of his spinning wheel like a child hurriedly trying to race back to where they wouldn't be suspected of some calamitous mischief.

His dexterous talons felt like clumsy paws made of wood and dipped in molasses as he fumbled for the last dredges of straw with a panic that felt as if he would never get it right before she beheld herself into the chamber; making him look a stark fool.

Muttering a harsh foul curse from under his breath, the magical monster simply snapped his clever fingers impatiently to set the wheel and the last remnants of his straw aright in its usual place with the aid of magic.

With one deep, intrepid, breath he forced his pulse to steady to a milder tempo instead of the frantic tattoo it had been racing along his veins and veiled himself in his usual entranced, thoughtful, demeanor he usually wore whilst turning his trade. His dexterous talons held the wheel with a quaking hand that for all his power he couldn't order to stop its tremulous faint jerking, while he used his thumb and forefinger to pinch and pull the glimmering golden thread along its ancient course.

The magical monster's sable orbs stared, with a fiery intensity that was unmatched to an inferno, at the point where straw transmuted into strands of priceless gold just as Belle appeared in the main hall.

The devious Dark One forced himself with every last reserve of strength he possessed not to turn to her; not to give away the brilliant gaiety resounding inside him with a sonorous choir of happiness.

He had to make it seem like any normal circumstance where he was hypnotized by the pull and cycle of the wheel. He dare not revel how jubilatory he was only moments ago, or how the utter joy burst wantonly in his heart with every heavy beat.

Belle slid into the main hall quietly, with only the slight rustling of her cloak to even give a hint her presence away. Her burden of flaxen straw was hefted lucidly upon her arm, but she hadn't paid the faintest attention to keep it all in the basket so concentrated upon seeing Rum again, and what it meant. The dull boom of her heart roared in her ears akin to thunderous wave crashing against a rocky cliff, at its rapid thud to finally be back with her master; her final choice.

Rum seemed not to even notice her presence even though she was certain he had heard her pad inside, and for a faint moment a fearful thought slipped cruelly into her sharp min that her choice had been wrong and that he was indifferent to the love she had to offer in her heart.

The thought was discarded as soon as it came, for her perceptive azure eyes spotted the tell-tale signs that the nefarious Dark One hadn't been spinning all that long. Thread that usually covered the entire spindle was only wound about three times in some half-hearted attempt to ply the wheel. It would have been much more if he was there for as long as she had first reckoned.

Hiding a knowing smile in the dimness of the chamber, the beauty dipped her head once in acknowledgement to her master, before lightly clearing her throat just enough to break his supposed trance.

The creaking of the wheel paused its ancient cycle as the magical fiend gazed up, a bit to eagerly, but held his hands in their normal place pinned upon the straw and wheel. Gray-gold features looked a ruddy teal in the firelight as that shadows played upon his face against the radiance of the flames that were locked in some combat of light and dark.

A faint timid grin he couldn't fight slightly broke upon his features as he cocked his head a bit to the right. "Back already? My, my, it seems like only a few moments ago you were leaving." He stated in his normal giddy falsetto to mask his nervousness and glee; his wiry finger languishing through the air carelessly.

Belle grinned slyly with a woman's intuitive knowing as she delicately place the basket on the large oaken table and pulled her cloaks hood back allowing her captured russet tresses to tumble freely from their bind. "Oh and I suppose you've been simply too busy with all the spinning you've done with the last of your straw." She pointed out insightfully; her tone in tender jesting.

For a singular moment the beauty could have sworn she espied a bit of crimson dapple his scaly oddly hued cheeks in an embarrassed blush, but after a second she cast it away as being only a hoax of the light.

A full fledged smile wisped upon her porcelain features as she padded towards him slowly. "Admit it, Rum; you're happy I'm back."

Happy? The fiend could have laughed at such a paltry word that utterly failed to relate what exploded and trembled inside of him. Happy didn't even skim the surface of the emotions that bubbled beneath his calm exterior façade.

"Well I'm not un-happy." He confessed freely with a small laugh lightly flitting the outskirts of his voice.

How could he possibly tell her he was one moment away from doing cart-wheels from the knowledge that she had chosen to return to him? Not only did her presence back after she had been given leave to depart mean she was a woman of her word and could be trusted to the utmost with any knights own honor; it meant much more, oh so much more.

Belle grinned widely at his words, as if reading the meaning woven behind them in some secret code that only she and Rum could encrypt and decipher in their hearts. In moments she was by his side, resting upon a free wide part of the wheel that could have been used to hold small items a normal spinner would need while plying his trade.

She was so close to him, the fiend was certain she could hear the raucous beat of his heart as it threw itself wantonly against his chest. The smell of dust and spring rain and sweat and the lingering essence of her perfume all in one tantalizing copious aroma nearly made the Dark One dizzy with delight.

The beauty's azure eyes shimmered gracefully in the soft hearth glow transforming her orbs a foggy whitish blue hue like fog amidst the mountain at dawn, and made her chestnut curls shadow into a fierce amber and red tint. "I picked something up in town for you. It caught my eye while I was waiting for the straw cart." The russet haired beauty revealed pleasantly.

"Oh?" He remarked numbly in curiosity; his eyes searching her with a gentlemanly intrigue that he hoped belayed the breathless enchantment she had inadvertently caught him in.

Slipping her hand into the fold of her cloak, the beauty revealed the fanged beast broach to her master. Her clever fingers dutifully pinned the useful item expertly to his black leather doublet almost like a hero's medal, making his heart skip a beat at her touch. "For your cloaks, so you won't have to wrestle with cords again." She explained with a light hearted giggle upon seeing the confusion that he couldn't banish, flash in his midnight eyes.

"And what possessed you to purchase such a useful little token, Belle-of-mine?" The fiend drawled in his usual timbre as he admired the special trinket. The small treasures irony, but he was certain that was the purpose of them being beast's fangs after he termed himself a monster, was not lost on the nefarious Dark One.

"Why it's a birthday present of course!" She replied, her smile wide and beaming as if it should have been obvious. "I told you one day I would give you a birth date since you swore you couldn't recall yours."

The fiend stared to her in a pondering, nearly surprised silence as they sat inches apart, and as comfortable as could be. All those days ago he had forgotten that little chat, although he came back to mind instantly. His dexterous talons fingered the ivory teeth that curved fashionably before speaking tremulously. "Why this day?" He inquired gently in a whisper.

"Because…" Belle paused for a moment, her mouth only a fraction open as if frozen in mid speech. The light of the flames just hinted at her soft pink tongue, before she off handedly licked her lips; deeming to speak again as if coming to terms with something in her mine. "Because today was peculiarly special; just like you."

Is heart lurched at her kind words, but he only offered a faint half smile then turned his head away to hide the long captive feelings he felt for his slave that simmered inside now mingled with the newly resurrected emotions he had assumed long dead.

How…why…did this treasure of a woman ever comeback to him? Why did she make his heart clay in her hands, to mold as she saw fit, and him not caring in the least that she stretched and pulled and rolled his soul in every direction? Surely he was not worthy of loveliness such as her.

"But, you promised if I returned you'd tell me about your son." She stated; her voice gently pulling him away from his thought like a siren coaxing a sailor to his doom. Suddenly, quite brazenly, the beauty put her hand on his thigh; daring to be bold, brave, adventurous.

Why had she come back if she were to be a mewling, flushing, wall flower about him again when their feelings came bubbling to the surface? No, she would follow the yearning voice of her heart that had made him her choice. She wouldn't hold back what she felt; not this time.

If she had been mistaken of a blush mottling his gray-gold features before, she was positive now, by the cherry red that bloomed involuntarily under his cheeks at her touch.

A sad smile graced his thin lips as his eyes stared fathomlessly into her own; blue caressing black, mingling pleasantly amidst the soft hearth glow. "Not much to tell I am afraid. He was a good boy. I loved him, but he became lost to me…"

"And since then you have let no one else into your heart?" Belle inquired tenderly, her eyes deadlocked with his own, her heart pounding like a war drum beating a frantic tattoo inside her chest.

"No one." He replied; hypnotized.

They felt the pull, they knew all to well what it was, but this time neither halted their magnetic attraction, but let it reel them in incorrigibly mingled with the heavy burden of their own free will that had yearned so long not to fight the coaxing that desired them together.

The light and dark surrounding them mingled into some illustrious tempters shroud that wrapped about master and slave; pulling them together inch by grueling inch that bound them by fate and flesh.

She had come too far not to.

He had waited too long not to.

Almost by magic, Belle's hands cupped both sides of his face. Her thumbs delicately traced against his flesh that wasn't at all scaly as she had always reckoned but leathered akin some vassal who had toiled all his life under the harsh unrelenting sun and weathered by hard toils of life.

She didn't care of the jagged yellow teeth that resided behind the thin gray lips, or the slate midnight eyes of murky onyx void. All she cared for was Rumpelstiltskin and that was all that mattered.

Slow, torturously slow, as if the sands of time poured out one grain every millennia that ever passed, she neared her body to his until her sweet, full lips met his own.

It was a chaste little kiss of those just exploring real love, but with a fire behind it that could have set an entire forest ablaze in mere moments. There was a stark, starving, hunger lurking beneath the tempting, testing kiss; a hunger that was so ravenous it was a miracle that it didn't swallow them then and there leaving sparse bits of fabric and clothing tossed or thrown carelessly aside in its gluttonous wake.

A soft love rested upon their lips, but a blinding passion bristled just under the newly trod ground, and the lines so flagrantly crossed.

For Rumpelstiltskin the who world stopped its revolving in one jarring stop. His heart froze in mid beat even though his pulse fevered with fire and desire, and black blood galloped wantonly through his veins.

Something foreign like a summer dawn blooming suddenly upon a frigid winter morn lit in his heart, sparking a warmth there that was akin to nothing he had ever felt. It was a cleansing, purging burn that fevered in a blazing inferno through his soul; banishing the walls of ice so long built around him.

The evil inside him shrieked and screamed and withered and threatened and clawed frantically with razor talons that dug desperately into his mind, while trying to cowering in any darkness that was fast being disintegrated by the light that swarmed inside, beating the darkness back without clemency.

A pleasant tingling washed over him in a crashing lull, making him want to fall into Belle's arms; leaving him as weak as a new born kitten as the purge battled the black magic and sent it into voided nothingness.

Something wasn't right, he knew with whatever dark sense still lurked in the back of his tactile mind. Kisses made a heart burst in joy and plummet into your stomach; set your head awhirl in dizziness as you became drunk off the other who met their lips to yours, and sent you into a world all your own. It shouldn't have felt akin to a savage war raging inside. A war his evil nature was fast loosing.

His brow knit slightly in confusion as some dark enticing survival instinct grappled for his will and regrettably coaxed him away from Belle lush full lips. "What's…what's happening?" He asked weakly as if dazed by some staggering blow to his senses and being.

Even amidst the turmoil in his mind and the love blooming widely in his heart, there was no mistaking an eminent, ominous pang his felt stab and twist into his once crippled leg. The pain was faint, no more than wince worthy, but getting worse by the moment as if some cruel claws were wrenching and disfiguring his appendage and slashing the ligament and muscles to flayed rags.

Belle's face lit with delight as she saw the edges of his lips turn into a tanned flesh, not gray-gold scales. His lips also were slowly turning into a normal flushed pink of a humans; filling the beauty with joy and making her bless the kind woman for her expert advice. For once, his eyes were not a fathomless midnight black, but a warm maple brown that she could have gazed into at for all eternity and never tired of.

"It's working!" She breathed enthusiastically, her cobalt eyes searching for a myriad of small changes taking place upon his features. "It's real! True love's kiss does break all curses." She crowed in delight.

At that moment the entire world flipped upside down.

The fiends honey chestnut eyes widened in panic as the days events came spilling back to him in an astounded clarity that was akin to a bolt of lightening striking him.

Regina's nonchalant, careless, tittering about a kiss breaking her scheme bolted in his mind like it had happened only a moment before. At the time he had scoffed in derision, not giving the words much credence other than it was her trying to make herself save a bit of face to look better in the light of her stupid failures.

Now the words filled him with a dread that flooded his body and fed the blackness in his soul that suddenly began to round upon the powerful magic of love and fight back; not willing to hand it's enslaved host up so easily.

Then the dream, the horrid dream that made Gooseflesh prickle his skin at the mere thought. Chains, cries, sneers, the fire, daggers. The darkness festering inside him prodded and coaxed the fear dwelling in him desperately into a wave of anguish and fear; nursing any dread he had ever had about Belle before the strong magic could gain the upper hand.

His onyx eyes hardened like black diamonds, and certainly just as cold as the malignance upon him whispered words of venom and hate into his ear.

She had set him up! All this time, everything they felt and shared had all been some tactile little game in which he was to be the fatal, mocked, loser.

Rage mingled with his sudden knowing terror spurred through him with an alacrity that was unmatched. The magical fiend shoved Belle at arms length and scrambled to get up and away from her as if she were poison or disease come to plague the world in the form of an enchanting temptress.

"Who told you of True Love's Kiss?" He roared to hide his panic; making it sound akin to a snarled accusation instead of a question. "Who knows that?"

Belle reeled back as if physically slapped from his sudden coldness and brusque demeanor. She was jolted cruelly awake from the enchantment of his lips and the long sought for joy she had held on to, suddenly ripped from her grasp and dissipating like mist against the sun. "Rum what are you-"

"Oh why didn't I see it before; stupid fool that I am." He chided himself with an angry black curse, his lips bared viciously in a sneer. "It all makes sense now! You and her majesty, that vile preening harpy, come up with this elaborate plot this…this manifesto of schemes to finish me, wasn't it? Going to clap me in chains like an animal and gloat after I became a useless cripple again? Torture me for sport after I could no longer wield my magic? Or going were you planning to run a blade through my back while I was grunting on top of you; if you were dedicated enough to go that far to achieve your foul ends!"

The beauty's face was a genuine mask of confusion, horror, and fear at his scathing furious words as she leapt up away from the fiend whose eyes glimmered like freshly spilled blood in the firelight accompanied with the crazed looked emanating from him dangerously. "Rum what are you...Who…?"

"Who?" He scoffed harshly, his mouth set to an angered grimaced as the enchantment of her warm kiss turned to sour ashes in his mouth and tapered away like a rancid taste. The blackness that had almost been scourged from him did not relent and crawled back across his soul festering into every crack and chink thoroughly; with a vengeance, and he was once again he fully manifested the beast. "Your friend the queen!" He trilled, though there was no mirth in his voice.

"What queen?" Belle protested in a shout. Cheated anger roiled in her at the thought of having him so close so bare and free then having him pull away as if she were tainted. "There is no queen, Rum! I want to help you."

Why did she have to take the advice of the ostentatious noble, why had she to followed her heart instead of her wits. It was lovely for a moment, a kiss beyond compare, before the blackness furrowed overhead to rip it all away leaving more wanting than what was there before.

"For what gain do you deem to 'help' me?" He snapped; his once again midnight orbs flashing with tempered steel. "Riches, glory, being the heroine you always dreamed, slaying the beast! Is that what your help will wrought!"

All the shadows in the darkened room seemed to step back at the fury hurled through the warm air, and the raw emotions spilt and soiled and sullied with the vileness of the evil. Belle paced towards him, her hands curled tightly into fists as if they reigned back the tears and the anger that overflowed inside both at herself and at him. "I want to help you because I love you!"

His ebony orbs grew round as gold coins and white hot rage finally bursting out of him in some dire, wild, vicarious eruption. And for a moment, Belle was well and certain he meant to slay her then and there in a wave of his magic or with his bare claws.

"I love you." She proclaimed again bravely; her voice ragged to fight back a well of tears.

"Shut up." He growled lowly, his tone akin to a prowling beast moments away from attacking his prey.

"I love you."

"Shut the hell up!"

"Why don't you believe me?"

His claws curled around her arms so suddenly, Belle didn't even know he had grabbed her until she felt his black talons digging cruelly into her arms on the cusp of breaking through her flesh and drenching her arms with her life's blood.

His eyes were wild and crimson gilt with a rabid aura akin to a feral beast caught in a trap it was clawing desperately to be free from as he shook her so hard the she could only see in a blinding blur of mulled colors. "Because no one can ever love me!" He roared savagely into her face.

What a fool he was to think it true that she could have felt anything for him. Gain; that's all anyone wanted. She didn't, couldn't want to love him; never!

He summoned magic to his call and winced as the razor sharp bite of the blackness dug back into him claiming him a slave of the dark powers.

As the billows of purple mist ensorcelled them it no longer had the warm sickly sweet aroma the wisps of fog, but was rank and rancid as meat spoiled and rotting in the sun. The black magic had beat back the light and was churning at its most foul to claim him fully and utterly.

In mere moments they stood in the dark chilled dungeons at the iron door of the 'guest room', yawned open like a gluttonous maw awaiting its guest.

"This will do till I can figure out what to do with you, traitor." He hissed sharply into her ear before flinging her inside the cold prison. He didn't so much as blink as she went crashing to the floor in a hard heap, but merely slammed the steel barricade shut to envelope her in a world of smothering darkness.

Belle felt the scrapes of her fall, and a trickle of blood brooking down her right arm, but didn't try to raise herself from the gritty floor to the heap of straw stashed in the corner, but simply curled up where despondency took her enthralled and wept for what could have been.

If only she had not listened to the acidic words of the woman on the road!


	29. Broken Hearts

_A/N: Quick updates are fun. Thanks for reading and reviewing, lovelies!_

**~8~8~**

"That lying traitor! She used me, made me a stupid pawn, and actually had me believe for a moment she could love me!" The fiend roared like a wounded, dying animal as he appeared back in the main hall in an angry cloud of dark purple amethyst that glowered in the fire light as if lightening crackled in its shrouded vapors.

Images of Belle laughing at his stupidity whilst he tumbled head over heels for her impenitent charms flashed in his minds like a whip mercilessly beating across his senses. There was no 'love' for him; she manipulated and skewed what last faltering, spattering of humanity he still possessed as the Dark One to work to her own ends!

While the darkness inside him was roiling at full force in its despised aura, feeding him the sweet tidbits of lies his cowardice relished to hear, the magical monster couldn't help but feel as if he had taken an arrow to the heart or that the cold steel of a blade had been plunged into his gut.

It hurt to the point where the heart ache was nearly physical pain, stabbing and tearing and clawing assiduously at his heart in devious glee as if a demon were rubbing salt on an open wound as punishment for his stupidity concerning his Belle.

He had never felt so much rage in his life nor so much anger and fear and hate and grief all pooled together in some noxious concoction that mercilessly burned his soul as a foul acid that corroded and leeched into the bloody, scathing, rawness that Belle had sliced open in his heart.

His breath bellowed out in deep dark heaves like a blacksmith stoking the fires of his forge as he snatched up a poker by the guttering hearth and hefted the warm steel murderously in his clawed grip.

Emotions that he had never felt so strong suffused a mighty power to his limbs to where all his mind could fathom was a primitive, beastly desire to break anything in sight to balm the agony wallowing inside him.

Stomping over to his tidy collection of curiosities he had culminated from centuries past, the fiend swung with all his hate and melancholy at the trinkets in the glass cabinets Belle so dutifully kept neat.

Priceless treasures of gold and ruby and pearl and the other beautiful gilt trinkets sat tidy; oblivious to the storm of grief to hit them with all its fury. They mattered nothing to him, not with the gaping wound slashing in his heart and his soul lying in a battered bloody heap.

No, right now, he just wanted to break and hurt and scar to assuage the pain pummeling and thrashing his spirit with out relent.

Better the trinkets be broken and harmed than Belle, at least, he supposed with the last remnants of sanity still wandering some lonely shadow of his corrupted mind.

She had betrayed him with soft words, and warm inviting eyes of sapphire. She had stolen his heart and stomped upon it; grinding it into the dust with her heel, plotting to be his doom.

The fiend never thought there could be such agony ravenously feeding upon his broken bleeding heart, but that in turn only fueled his cheated rage as he swung with all his power to the lavish treasures.

Shards of freshly shattered glass flew helter-skelter through the air, catching the glint of the guttering fire to color them a vibrant crimson tint akin to blood that sprayed and projected in every conceivable direction; whizzing and whirling without regard all about him like some angry hornet swarm.

They cut and slashed and dug into his skin until his hands were slick and dyed midnight black with his blood, and he could taste the sour iron tang of his black essence mingled with the salt of his tears in some tepid mixture of anger and regret and shame.

His cries of mourning rage mingled with the crescendo of shattered glass and porcelain accompanied with the creaking groan of invaluable objects and harsh clang of treasures being ruined by his hand and the strength of his fury.

Chairs were broken into useless kindling as the magical monster flung them about the room and kicked them over and smashed them to splinters.

The curtains were torn and ripped as if a lion had slashed its claws through the velveteen fibers while he yanked and pulled them down; flinging them haphazardly about the destroyed room to reveal the moon that looked down upon him as if it were aghast at his blazing rage.

The only thing not caught in his fury was the spinner's wheel sitting cold and aloof in a corner, invisible to his scanning anger that destroyed all in its sight.

The fiend cast himself into a red haze where all he could see was crimson through the hot tears that coursed freely down his wretched face that held testament to the grief that burned inside.

All the while the darkness whispered acrid poison into his ear; berating him with harsh mocking words that festered in his soul like an infected wound. _We told you she didn't love you. That lying little trollop, a traitor, trying to get close to ram that dagger into your heart. And you actually believed and fed off every honeyed lie, every bat of her lashes, and every little giggle you drank in like a parched man. Pathetic, worthless, cripple, what will you do with your little slave now that she has unveiled her true nature?_

The venomous words goaded him like a flaming brand ferrying his anger to a rage that made his entire form quiver. Coming to the large mahogany table in the center of the room, the fiend grabbed and tossed anything that came to his free hand, sending little trinkets sailing across the ravaged chamber and breaking on the stoic tapestry covered walls.

With every tiny treasure flung he put a black curse behind it, ruing the day he ever sought a slave to steward his castle.

The tea tray, once always on hand between them was not spared his wrath. In fact when he stumbled upon it he spat Belle's name like venom, and cired in agony at the heart ache she stabbed inside his spirit.

Grabbing a quaint ceramic cup he threw it to the wall to watch it crack into a hundred white shards, and then another and another until all but one remained. The magical monster snatched it up like all the rest, ready to lob it off like it fellowes, only to feel a cut; a cut the dug deeper and hurt far worse than the glass stuck in his flesh.

His rage gutted and faltered out of him as if a cool wind had suddenly blown it out, leaving him numb and astounded as he looked down to his talons. The chip, tiny thing that it was, had nicked his finger. It was not even enough to draw blood, but the memory was enough to break what was left of his battered, beaten heart and grind it into the dust.

He could break, slash, cut, shatter everything else in his vengeful path, but not that; it was far too precious. The memory of the timid little smile after her blunder that came tacked along with the tiny cup was worth more than anything else he had obtained in his castle.

A cry of anguish and mourning erupted bleakly past his lips as set the small ceramic trinket down solemnly and half-heartedly tossed the poker away back in some direction of the hearth and sank down to the glass littered floor wearily; his fury drained in soul and body.

The Dark One's hand grasped the sides of his head tightly, his finger digging deeply into his scalp, as he wept unashamedly like he'd only done once before; letting the hot salty tears course freely down his cheeks as his rage burnt out to a hollow spot left raw in his body.

He had never felt such a lonely hole left in his heart that seemed like nothing would ever mend it. How did one mend a wound that was so raw no poultice would soothe it?

Weeping openly, the fiend knew the terrible voice in his head was correct on one thing despite its mocking; what would he do about Belle? What exactly _could _he do? Kill her? Keep her locked up forever in the dungeon watching her waste away to a pallid wisp of a slave until she was all but a bitter husk of her former self?

Corrupt her…?

The fiend's eyes alit, glimmering with the fresh set of tears, at the thought that came unbidden to his head. Even the darkness hadn't whispered that thought to him, but in some way it had a grudging if not wary approval of such a thought.

Rubbing his chin ponderously, he stared blankly at the carnage festooned and gored around him; not truly heeding the destruction as he plummeted into the realm of contemplation.

Now to corrupt Belle as he himself was corrupted? That was an idea, but was it possible? What if he could transform her into something that mirrored himself? She would be a beast as well, no one to run to no one to aid her. They would shun her as they did him. All she would have was him, and he her.

Could it work? Of course it would be dangerous, but there was no harm in trying after what had just occured.

Purpose. The word was as a blessing sent from heaven that gratefully soothed a fraction of the pain blistering within. It helped banish the rawness and anger to the back as he staggered slowly to his feet and headed towards his apothecary to delve into the black arts that gave rise to what little hope he could muster in his heart.

~8~8~

Darkness only passed in degrees in the dank cell the beauty reclined in, but Belle could not have cared less. Her fingers absently flecked at little things she stumbled on in the hay, used for a bed, as she stared blankly into the fetid void.

What had she done, what repercussion had her actions wrought? She wished he would come even if was to hurt her, to try and explain, but she had seen neither hide nor hair of him for all her time that felt as eternity amidst the crawling darkness.

Was he so covetous of his powers he would spurn what she had so humbly laid at his feet and had so bravely offered of herself; her very heart no less? Would he truly crush her love into the dust for the sake of his magic's?

Tears stared afresh every time the thought cruelly lashed her mind, for she it to be true. No amount of optimism in the world could dissuade her from the fact; he would keep his power over a slave girl. In some naïve way she had expected different from him, but she should have known better than to think any happy ending written in books would come to pass.

When she lay awake, restless from the thoughts that plagued and taunted her through the darkness, she would ponder the day that had doomed her. That blasted woman from the road had offered her advice to kiss him and break whatever curse held him enthralled.

It hadn't been a bad plan, as Belle had considered it on the walk to town. Simply break his curse and unlock the man she knew lay hidden under the gray-gold flesh, and free from his dark magic's taint.

How foolish she had been to think it that easy! But there was no going back from it now; no sorry she could utter no plea for forgiveness she could say. He coveted his power to much and she had nearly ripped it away from him; that could not be bypassed.

The thoughts of him shunning her, and her ultimate mistake pursued her every hour she lay awake, and even when she fell into some sort of vague doze they swarmed in her dreams as ravenous maggots.

Belle awoke to the stinging brilliance of a torch filtering into the frigid darkness all around her. Her azure eyes squinted and stung at the flickering flames that brought black and blue spots dappling her vision at the sudden luminance.

Dried tears still stained her cheeks, but she did nothing to hide the barren streams of pain as she sat up and swiped a hand across her azure eyes.

"Rum-" She began to speak, her word muffled and confused but he interrupted her before she could say anything further.

"Quiet. Drink this." He snarled demandingly. In moments he was by her side pushing a warm glass vial in her hand.

Even though she didn't know why Belle felt a precipitous tingling of danger of slither up her spine as she looked down to what he had pressed in her hand. A glass vial from his apothecary with some fluid the color of stagnant marsh water and smelling just as foul swirling in the beaker.

A slight grimace bloomed upon her face as she turned to him, her brow knit in confusion. "What is it?"

He didn't deem to respond only looking down at her with a glare as hard as the stone walls about her.

"Poison?" She ventured to guess aloud, hoping anything on his face would give her clues. Did he mean to kill her for her anathema towards him? Was it the quickset or most painful way he wanted her to go?

"Drink it or I will force it down you throat." He snapped, making Belle jump.

Another time the beauty would have taken his words in jest, but she could see by the crazed half glint in his eyes he meant every snarled word.

Taking a deep breath, Belle nodded then pressed the vial to her lips quaffing down the entire tonic in one large swing.

It tasted somewhere between spoiled meat and rusted iron oozing down her throat with the heat of glowing coals. Immediately her body wanted to wretch the tepid brew up, but Rum was there in an instant closing her mouth and nose until he was sure she downed it and it wouldn't come back up.

"I _need_ this to work." He snapped, but to Belle it sounded almost akin to a desperate plea.

Her arms flailed as she fought for breath and to rid her mouth of the concoction, but his grip was as hard as steel; clamping her air ways shut until it gushed down her esophagus. After he released her, Belle coughed and hacked from the foul elixir that gurgled plaintively in her stomach. A tremulous hand flew to her throat that felt raw and hot, as he body quaked.

It wasn't so much the taste now that still lingered foully on her tongue and down her throat, but the feel of corruption stewing inside her made her stomach roil in protest.

Her gut clamped in a vice as she felt as if claws were ripping at her soul and for a moment she felt the scalding hot lava of magic burn through her blood painfully warping her into something terrible, and then relenting leaving only a horrid taste in her mouth that made her want to heave, but could not.

"W-what did you do to me?" She rasped; tears of pain rather than hurt pricking her eyes.

It had almost worked. Rumpelstiltskin had been so sure of it, he could feel his dark powers leaping over to her, but then it had dissipated as smoke wafting on the breeze.

It had been a risky potion, one of black magic and his spilled blood he had ripped from his body with the dagger. If the powers of the Dark One could be taken away, by a kiss no less, why couldn't he give a bit of it to someone else? It should have worked; everything had been correct dosage to give so that a bit of his dark power transferred over to her. Why hadn't it though?

A cry of frustrated rage resounded through the cell as he beat his curled tight fist petulantly upon the wall before storming out again leaving Belle confused and alone at the midnight encounter.

"It should have worked! She should have been like me! I could have been with her!" He roared through the dank corridors as if accusing some invisible specter of a fault.

The fiend felt rage overtake his body as he strode down the dark cold corridors. Everything thing had been correct from the minutest detail. The potion should have made her like him, so why hadn't it?

Almost immediately the startling thought struck him why it hadn't worked; he hadn't used it for the proper reason. It was to make someone evil, but it was being used for loves sake; not for gain.

How could his potion work when it was for true love! The oxymoron had nullified itself. Either that or Belle was completely incorruptible to his dark nature. Perhaps that's what drew him to her, he reckoned grimly as he stormed through the castle. She was his polar opposite and no matter what he would be drawn to her like a loadstone to the North Star.

Stopping suddenly, the fiend immediately saw the problem and the danger he found himself amidst in.

She might be a traitor, but being so drawn to her he wasn't giving up trying to be with the traitor. If he was drawn to his utter counterpart, then in some way he would be sucked by into her no matter how hard he fought it.

As long as she remained in the Dark Castle her charms would little by litte wear down his walls and breech to the innermost parts of his heart like she had infiltrated once.

She was dangerous, far too dangerous to keep around and allow her a second time to thaw the ice over his soul.

Perhaps next time he wouldn't be so lucky in getting off light with only a kiss. He would be too weak to resist her and fall for her cunning little traps all over again like a fool; a hog going blindly to his slaughter.

Even though his corrupted heart ached like some cruel hand had shorn in in two. He knew what had to be done, even though it hurt with an irrepressible knowing that stung him unmercifully. In order to steel himself from his poison, his weakness, his bane, he had to let her go…

~8~8~

For three days Belle had seen nothing but the blackness that fell upon her like a solid weight that smothered the very breath that rattled from her form. Nothing moved or even slightly stirred; not even the rats what made their hovels in the straw had chosen to stay as if they knew what sort of wrath Belle had surged up from the master of the castle.

The beauty's belly gnawed with hunger as she rested dourly upon the heaps of old straw plucking at the occasional stalk, and lost in a depressed reprieve; half in and out of sullen wakefulness and nightmares that taunted her and tore at her heart.

On the third day she awoke to discover some sort of conjured magical light, and red woolen blanket in her cell along with a tea tray laden with food and the blue and white ceramic kettle with his one chipped cup.

A sad smile bloomed to her lips as she grasped the cup and kettle, pouring herself a spot of the warm brew to combat the chill. Somehow it warmed her a trifle to know that he still thought of her and would not see her in want.

On the fifth day the door to her cell opened wide, the light of a few torches casting the room in a warm radiance. Belle slid involuntarily to the wall slightly in fear, the memory of the foul brew still dancing on her tongue, and the strength he had used to forcefully make her hold it down.

A small hope clung to her heart as she wasted her days locked in the cell that perhaps his heart was softening and he was coming around.

Surely he could see that while her kiss had been one of a spur of emotion he was no worse for wear for he still had his powers. The beauty even dare dream that everything would be alright.

The magical monster padded inside her cell like a stalking prey, his eyes hard and careless as he observed her raged figure. No remorse or pity glinted in his obsidian ebony orbs as he stared stonily at the beauty. "Go." He spat simply, almost in disgust; pointing his nimble finger to the open, flame illuminant door.

Out of everything that was the last word, the russet haired beauty ever expected to hear. "W-what?" Belle stammered in shock and confusion, her eyes squinting against the stinging light.

"I don't want you anymore, Dearie. You're no longer my property, nor I your owner. I'll keep the deal struck on your end of the bargain, but as of this moment you're a free woman." He explained somberly with no hint of his sinister chortle.

He remained a blank, unreadable stone towards her, using every trick he knew not to display a hint of his accursed emotions that still rubbed raw for her.

Something akin to relief flooded through Belle that sent strength to her limbs. Freedom, it was better than what he possibly could have done to her, for she knew what sinister evil lurked amidst the darkness of his heart. Clambering off the straw she smoothed the wrinkles to her garb before trying to walk out before he changed his mind.

Nearly out of her fetid cage, somthing inisde of the beauty stopped her dead in her tracks before she stepped foot out the cell. Rage, indignation, love lost; a sullen combination of all?

She could feel his midnight eyes upon her even without seeing him, but turned around, bristling in anger of her own that was far overdue to be unleashed with the heart ache that dully pounded inside her. "Are you so afraid of love you will shut it out of your heart?"

A dry smirk played across his futures before it fell away a moment later as if all mirth had been drained from his soul. "Oh no, Dearie. You see it's quite simply I want my power more than your supposed love."

"Then you're a coward, Rumpelstiltskin. A bloody, bloody coward." Belle growled to hide the hot well of tears that pricked at her azure eyes.

The word hit him with the force of a blow. A grim frown pierced his lips, as his ebony orbs narrowed into twin slits of void. "That's a lie." He rumbled dangerously; daring her to say more.

"No, you just don't think I can love you. You can't possibly believe that some one might care for the man behind the quips and scales and the magic. You just refuse to believe I could mean more to you than your power." She rebuffed plainly, refusing to allow her tears to break thorough the dam of her determination.

"You mean nothing to me!" He denied angrily in a snarl; his ebony orbs flashing as he clenched his jaw. His word hissed furiously past his clamped teeth as he glared daggers at her to hide the pain in his own soul. "Do you now what you are, no, _were _to me? A pet, Belle, I bought you here as a pet! You were nothing more than something to amuse myself with from the drudges of day to day life! My only fault is that I got too attached and forgot that even the most pleasant of pets can still bite their masters."

His words stung far more than they should have, Belle knew, they were arrows that hit the bull's-eye of her heart crushing any fierce stubbornness she still managed to retain in one fail swoop.

The tears wanted to flow out with the sting of heart ache, but she banished them back; to proud to shed tears before him as she stared him dead in the eye thought her voice cracked and wavered with grief. "Keep lying to yourself but one day, Rumpelstiltskin, it will hit you and you'll realize that you frittered away love that I freely gave…and all you'll be left with is an empty heart and a chipped cup."

He remained as silent and as hard as stone against her, even though her words shredded him on the inside. He couldn't let her nick his armor again, to peel away the layers of cruelty and hardheartedness. To find a niche and slip through again as she had always done.

A cold neutrality etched his gray-gold features revealing nothing of the heart ache that came with her words.

Belle sniffed the moldy, rank air once, pathetically gathering up the last scrap of her composure before walking out of the dungeon leaving the fiend feeling more alone than he ever had.

~8~8~

The noon day sky was a deep azure that held not a wisp of cloud in its plains of endless blue, casting the whole land in a heady warmth that soaked into everything.

For Rumpelstiltskin it might has well have been the middle of winter in a raging blizzard. He saw not the deep cloudless indigo firmament but dull melancholic gray that suffused everything down to the very air he breathed.

The fiend sat at his wheel with the newly acquired straw frantically plying his wheel; forcing his mind into a cold carelessness and putting his thoughts in order and subduing the one's that cried mournfully of his heart ache in some torturous dirge.

He couldn't think of her. He did not care for her.

Belle appeared from one of the side doors that opened into the main hall. She carried a small brown satchel of provisions slung over her shoulder that the Dark One hadn't protested her to take. It was simple fare, bread, water, a few bandages, compass, and a book.

It was a tome that he often asked her to read to him in the dark months while they burrowed themselves in the warm library to loose themselves in the well worn pages of adventure.

If he even knew she had taken it, he didn't say a word for her to leave it.

He left the main hall looking like a group of brigands had raided its contents and a hurricane had just torn through in their wake, wanting her to see how worthless the trinkets were to him; how little he cared that she had spent so long caring for his things.

He wanted to it to be a message that he didn't care; not for the wealth he had stored, not for the troves of treasures he had collected, and not for her.

He saw her face blanche to a ghastly white of terror and gasp in astonishment at the carnage surrounding the main hall, but he refused to turn to her fully, refused to make her believe that for a moment he actually cared. Even from the corner of his eye he saw tears brook down her porcelain, dirty cheeks as she looked at the carnage he had wrought. He could tell she wanted to say something, be it angry or pleading, yet what was there to say?

Belle stood there for a moment taking in the horrid scenes of broken wood and shattered glass and torn curtain all in one moment. Her heart quaked and she didn't know if she wanted to cry in sorrow or scream in blinding rage at him.

Instead she only sighed heavily and looked to her former master, still sitting at the wheel amidst the wreck cold and hard oblivious to the mess about him.

She could have said anything in that one moment: words of pleading, accusation, hate, love trampled and beaten; all of which he deserved to be spat at him and more. But the beauty couldn't, she simply hadn't the will to force herself to leave a bitter parting word not even after all her had done.

"Goodbye, Rum." She whispered simply, her breath shallow to mask the catch in her throat that told of the pain wallowing inside her.

He didn't respond, just as she knew he wouldn't, but kept staring at the wheel and feeding it its burden of straw that would help spin her presence into only a distant memory.

The beauty's shoulders slumped in dejection and defeat as she determinedly blinked back the tears that still threatened to fall and began the agonizing walk to the main double doors; leaving all she loved behind.

Perhaps there was truth to his harsh words, the beauty pondered demurely with every tormented step. Perhaps it was only her eyes seeing what she desired to see behind the mask of the Dark One when she became lonely from toiling all by her lonesome; seeking some form of companionship. Perhaps his stinging words were true and all she had been was a pet that could conveniently cook and clean; easily discarded when she became an inconvenience, as he was doing now. Perhaps he truly did not care.

"The air is still cold at night." The fiend stated so suddenly, Belle flinched at the sound of his voice wafting through the still air. His eyes were stapled to the coarse grain of the wooden wheel as he forced himself not to look at her. "Take your cloak." He finished lowly.

He cared. He always would, no matter what he tried to make her see otherwise. No matter how hard he fought it; he would always care.

The tears came then, hot fat drops that cooled upon her cheeks as she grabbed her cloak and flung it speedily over her shoulders. It would have been better if he had not spoken a word at all, for he did care, he did love, and that is what made the pain all the more torturous.

With a quiet sob that strangled from her mouth, the beauty departed from the Dark Castle and its dark master leaving her heart amongst the wreckage shattered upon the floor.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: In the home stretch now. One, maybe two more chapters, and that will be all, folks._


	30. Ashes

_A/N: Thanks all for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

An entire year had passed in the Dark Castle since Belle had been driven away. Since Rumpelstiltskin had rejected the bright joyous love she so tenderly offered him. Since had had lied blatantly to her face from behind his stony façade and hurt her with his snapping words that dug into her soul.

Yes, one long tortuous year had passed since he had shunned her and with every long monotonous melancholic day that crawled along like years themselves, he found himself thinking of his Belle and what he could have had with her if he had not been so cowardly.

He often wondered about her as he sullenly plied his wooden wheel and transformed the flaxen stalks of straw into fine golden thread. With each turn of the ancient wheel he pondered where she was and what she did.

Was she back at home, safe, or had she gone rambling about the realms as had always been her dream? Did she live back in luxury as her noble heritage and birth right insisted, or was she a mendicant lost in the throes of penury, but happy with her freedom away from duty and royalty which she often detested so?

Perhaps she had found work as a scullery maid or a tavern bard; with all the tales she knew there would always be coin to be had from the many stories she could weave, or even taken the darker road to survival as a highwaywoman taking what she needed at the tip of a blade from those who could afford to loose a few silvers.

Whatever she had chosen, he prayed fervently she was safe and happy with her lot in life.

The castle still looked the same since she had departed, save for the vacant shelves that had once been graced with the most exquisite of treasures but now lay barren with only a thick layer of filmy gray dust to fill the void.

Many trinkets had been squandered, in his pernicious fury, that he hadn't the will to magic back together but merely spirited away in a lilac shroud of power to never be seen again.

The curtains which he now always kept drawn open, washed the room in gilded golden beams of mid spring that did absolutely nothing to warm the cold numb in the Dark One that remained as frigid as deep winter's night. But keeping them open reminded him of his Belle upon the ladder and the first true moments she began wearing down the walls in his heart. The walls that he so fastidiously built back up again to stockade his soul in that one night where he had almost become a worthless cripple once more.

The magical monster shook his head laconically at the thought as his dexterous black talons slowly churned the spinner's wheel in a lazy, creaking cycle. No, he would not think of that horrid night, the pain was still too raw and blistered upon his heart.

In fact, he had begun to think that not even all eternity could soothe that hurt he felt wallowing within. He had shut Belle out, and that was a knife that kept wrenching in his heart and slashing open the old tender wound that refused to mend.

Suddenly, the Dark One felt the well known tingling of foul magic harshly brushing against his own before he heard the faint, uneasy, whinny of nervous horses out upon the castle grounds.

The sound of hooves clattering against the cobblestone thrust him out of his dull reprieve as the magical monsters age old mind pin pointed who the corrupted powers belong to.

A black grimace marbled upon his thin gray lips as he knew exactly who was tramping up the steps of the Dark Castle. Regina, the foul craven who had corrupted the only good thing in his life; the only thing that had made him feel like an ordinary man.

With a twiddle of his talons he could have barred her from the premises, or even have her and her coach teleported and dumped in a pig's style in some remote village as she so thoroughly deserved, but then he would be showing a weakness. He would be showing that her dirty, underhanded deeds had burned a whole through his soul, and that could not be allowed.

"Flimsy locks, Rumpel dear." Regina's smooth, seductive voice tittered innocently as she strutted flauntingly into the main hall. Her heels clicked in a steady tempo with every jouncing step, making the Dark One inwardly cringe in anger with every move she made. "Getting a trifle careless, are we?"

The fiend didn't deem to look at the pompous black clad harpy, but remained apathetically staring at his wheel that gave the sorceress the clear message she wasn't worth an inkling of his time. "I'm not dealing today, Majesty." He stated lugubriously, his voice grim and plaintive.

This day he couldn't rouse himself to be his usual quipping, sly self. Not when so much had happened on the date one year before. No matter how he chose not to make himself seem, he couldn't stifle all the pain he felt over that day and how she had played a hand somehow in it in allowing Belle to betray him.

"Still sulking over that slave girl, Rumpel?" Regina asked coaxingly though it sounded nearer to victorious reproof at his so obvious weakness. The queen, so stupidly brash and brazen didn't even deny her interactions with Belle on that fated day long ago. Instead she flaunted it as some intangible trophy that displayed her arrogant cunning.

Striding leisurely over to the large oaken table that still held scars and chinks from his night of blind rage, the foul woman busied herself by poring tea into a grandly gilded gold and silver cup from a matching kettle that was slightly tarnished from disuse as if he barely touched it.

A sly, superior smirk, slithered upon Regina's glossy scarlet lips as she held the cup to her mouth but refrained from sipping just yet. A small chuckled seeped wickedly from her throat as she turned back towards the still spinning Rumpel. "What was the little thralls name again? Alex? Verna? Margie?"

"Belle." The fiend replied so soft and tender, the sorceress barely caught it. Even speaking her name caused his black heart to lurched in agony and his throat to catch in a vice. Belle, the most heavenly name in all the realms.

At such sickening tenderness, the witch saw momentarily flash across Rumpel's face, a dark frown tipped her ruby lips in false melancholy as she shrugged. "Huh, well I'll have you know I had nothing to do with her sordid tragedy." She stated before taking a wary sip of the warm, yet bitter brew.

The wheel came to a creaking halt that made the sorceress stifle a jump at the sudden quiet that pervaded all around them. Only then did the fiend turn to her, his brown knit in thin lines of blank confusion. "What tragedy?" He inquired lowly, but there was a danger line there that Regina knew she had to tread carefully not to overstep.

"You didn't hear?" She placed a black, laced gloved hand to her chest gaping at him in flagrantly exaggerated shock at the sudden panic she saw flitting within him. "As the tavern bards tell it she dragged herself back home to dearest papa with the belief that he'd welcome her home." A sharp cruel laugh barked out the witch's mouth as she shook her head in mocking pity. "She was mistaken. Her father shunned the sight of her."

Shunned her? The fiend's ebony orbs alit with promise as the words slid from Regina's mouth. Belle had been turned away by her father, meaning she hadn't anybody to seek refuge with; except for him.

If her papa had disowned her she was an outcast just as he. "So…so she needs a home?" The fiend inquired warily, his voice laced with hope that flitted the edges of his dry, disbelieving tone.

If she needed a roof over her head he wouldn't deny her that. No, he would welcome her back with open arms not as a slave, but as an equal - outcast to outcast.

"Hardly." Regina replied with a derisive snort; cruelly crushing his hope beneath her heeled boot. "The townsmen believed she was tainted in some way by being with you. Wild rumors and proof of a letter from her would-be mate in some arranged marriage raged like wildfire about the kingdom. It said something along the lines of that she had been forced to warm her master's bed and bear him some half bred demon spawns which he devoured, making her no more corrupted and foul as he."

Regina gave a careless snort as she fluted her finger lazily through the air. "Her poor betrothed had gone missing from his quest to save her from your cruel grip, but he's presumed dead. Despite all the accusation surrounding her and you the nefarious Dark One, she defended you and what honor you may possess. That convinced her father that she had gone through so much torment at your hand her mind was muddled into thinking you were some kind, gentle man rather than a savage beast trussed up in gaudy men's clothes."

A wicked blood red grin bloomed across her face that made the fiends heart jerked spasmodically in his chest as the vile monarch shrugged carelessly. "After that her father locked her up in a tower where druids and clerics and shamans where sent in to cleanse her flesh and mind of your taint. They scourged her, seared brands of glowing coals to body, flayed her flesh into tattered rags and forced doses of herbs and noxious potions meant to rid her insanity down her throat. After a while, though, she couldn't take it and flung herself from the open tower window." The sorceress eyes flashed icy steel as she savored the words rolling off her tongue like a sweet wine. "She died."

Died? If Rumpel's heart could not have sunk any lower before, it did at that moment, making his knees trembled with the force of that one horrid word that thrashed inside him - died.

No, it couldn't be, it was only one of Regina's mocking tricks, but when he looked deep into her turquoise orbs, as vile as swamp water, he knew every word for truth. Belle had died, and it was because of him.

"We're done." He stammered dazedly, her words still permeating his scaly gray-gold hide like some vicious acid.

A magic so thick and foul thrummed through the air that the witch knew if she didn't take her leave she might end up in the center of a yeti cave or volcano or worse. His magic pressed about her, actually making it hard to breathe, but the pallid, cunning sorceress never showed a hint of the fear sweltering within.

Breathing a heavy, annoyed sigh, the malicious monarch shrugged tactfully careless and placed the tea cup down with just a fraction of hurry that revealed her wariness. "Apologies, I see that I've upset you." Regina remarked, though her tone was as far from apologetic as the moon was from the sun.

A small, impish giggle nastily crept past her lips as she sauntered back towards the twin double doors. Her gloved index finger trailed absently upon the wooden table before she paused at the threshold of the door. She rubbed her fingers together ponderously causing the thin layer of gray particles to flitter down upon the cold stone like flakes of sordid snow.

With a moment of brash revelry in seeing how she had wounded the fiend, the vile monarch dared to take one more jab at his misery and notch one more cruelty upon her reputation. "Place is looking dusty, Rumpel. You should get a new girl." The witch observed with a haughty sniff before striding out, leaving Rum alone and numb in place.

Dead, the word staggered him, he felt unable to breath, his chest clamping in a vice where every intake of air was torment that seared his lungs.

How could she be dead and at her father hand at that! A ragged sob burst from his throat as the distraught weight of his soul brought him physically to has knees.

Dead. The word kept reverberating around his skull in some melancholic dirge sung in a wail by a long lonely ghost.

It couldn't be, she couldn't be, and yet the sincerity if not mingled with cruelty, in every word coming from that vile toad had spoken truth.

His teeth ground determinedly as he shook his head to clear away the pain and banish away the tears freely streaming down his cheeks. No, he wouldn't believe, not until he saw with his own eyes, not until he spied her grave and clawed a confession from her fathers throat would he believe her dead.

For at that moment he didn't think his heart could bear it to be truth.

~8~8~

The castle, once Belle's home, looked as it did when she had left to be the Dark One's slave, and yet a mist of despondency seemed to have fallen upon it like some vaporous shroud of fog.

In the day after his bargain for Belle, the war camps of the ogres were packed away and gone; no more villages in King Maurice's provinces had been sacked, the people were free from the threat of tyranny under an ogre's fist, and the land prospered. So why did it feel as though a defeat had ensorcelled the entire kingdom?

Rumpelstiltskin wrapped his dull crimson cloak about him tighter to ward off the chill flitting about him that still pervaded the spring night as he looked towards Belle's father's citadel.

His nimble talons absently fingered the ivory fanged clasp Belle had given him those long tortuous nights ago when he had chosen his power over her. It had become a talisman of sorts for him that settled his thoughts and brought him luck. Tonight he prayed the luck still worked, and Belle was safe and sound.

Flourishing his fingers through the crisp air, the fiend disappeared in wispy tendrils of dark purple magic that crackled with his wariness and despair that he couldn't keep suppressed inside.

In mere moments he repapered inside the sleeping chamber of King Maurice. All was dark in the lavish chamber save for a sliver of silver moon peeping out from the veil of roiling clouds and radiating through a half closed satin curtain to beam it's luminescent upon the extravagancy.

Padding toward the sleeping monarch, Rum could see that even after his spell to heal him the king looked more haggard than he had when the fiend had last seen the monarch. His flesh was pallid and haggard like a bloated corpse, dark rims bruised under his eyes, and he constantly stiffened and muttered under his raspy breath as if caught in the throes of a nightmare.

A scalding anger clenched the Dark One as he looked at the corpulent waste of air laying before him. If he did was Regina had claimed he had done…The agonizing thought had not been there a moment before blistering rage overtook the magical monster.

A cry of anger laced with torment roared from Rumpel's throat as his dexterous claws grabbed the monarch by his white, sweat stained night shirt; his talons easily breaking through the fibers to the pliable skin beneath bringing forth spurts of hot dark crimson blood.

The king's eyes shot open in numb terror right as the devious fiend slammed him against a nearby, tapestry covered wall.

Even before he had set foot inside the small palace, the devious Rumpel had conjured a silencing spell about the chamber so no one would be none the wiser what was happening. He wanted the king one on one without having to waste his powers transforming guradsmen into snails and ants.

"What did you do to Belle!" The fiend roared inches from Maurice's face. His breath was scathingly hot, straggly dirty brown hair shifted over her face in a veil of anger, and his teeth like jagged fangs that sought to rip the monarch's throat out and wholly devour his soul.

Mentally, he prepared himself for pathetic, piteous whining or the king's snot nosed blubbering for mercy or even numb terror that would freeze his tongue and mind. What he did not expect was the inferno of fury that fevered behind the king's warm brown eyes; mildly taking the devious monster aback.

A cry of rage tore from Maurice's wobbling throat as he fought back against the fiend's tight grip, his hands balled into twin fists that tried to land a blow on the devious Dark One. "You bloody beast! How dare you crawl back here after what you've done. It's your fault she's gone! You corrupted her, you tainted her! You touched my daughter and filled her mind with insanity! She's dead and it's all your damned fault!"

Sobs of loss spurted from the king's mouth as he swung his fists pathetically towards the fiend that easily dodged the clumsy blows that sought to harm him. At least the physical blows were smoothly avoidable, but the words hit him harder than any fist ever could.

There it was, spoken from the man that had sired her and raised her. The beauty's own father had just confirmed what had festered and brought nameless dark fear in his soul - Belle was truly dead.

The truth made the Dark One recoil as if struck square in the jaw and stabbed in the very center of his heart with a long poisoned barb that skewered him. This thing before him had sent Belle to her agonizing doom. "You were her father!" He cried hoarsly.

"You corrupted her!" Maurice retorted furiously in a sneer mingled with tears.

"I should kill you." The conniving fiend hissed so darkly it almost seemed as though blackness oozed from his hard mouth. His gray- gold features twisted in pain as he expertly grabbed the winded monarch again, pulling him close. "I should beat you until you're nothing more than a bloody puddle of flesh and sinew on the floor!"

The monarch staggered pathetically as the fiend grasped him in the long cruel talons, his breath coming out in hard fought gasps as he stared at the beast with tear brimmed eyes. There was a pain there that rivaled Rumpel's own, tearing at him at the fibers of his heart and clawing at his soul without relent. "I wish you would." Maurice admitted, his voice timid and choked with mourning.

Rumpel would have killed him; he would have ravaged the bloated useless sack of flesh with torments that would make him beg for the sweet blissful mercy of a clean end, but that would have been clemency. It would have been far too quick for the miserable king before him whose very torment came with every parting breath; realizing he had sent his daughter to die.

A silence wafted between the two standing in the dark room with only a spattering of moonlight for vision as Rumpel's mind reeled with questions. How could she be dead? What had Belle ever done but consider others instead of herself and now she was gone; slain at the hand of the very people she sought to protect.

"Tell me the names of the people who did it." The magical monster ordered icily, his voice thick with the promise of murder and justice.

That night, people cowered into heir beds as horrid screams of torment rose far into the clouded air of midnight.

No one dare even peel back a curtain or draw a wooden shutter to peek out to see what went on. By the screams of those crying out for their deities they knew all to well what vile specter had come to plague them.

~8~8~

Dead. The word resounded in Rumpelstiltskin's ear like the waves crashing and frothing angrily against the stony cliffs. Even after going to see her father and after that bringing her tormentors to a harsh, blood caked end, the words bite had not relented from him.

From the last 'cleric' he had slowly peeled his skin from, between the cries of mercy and pleas for death the Dark One had managed to learn of Belle's resting place and what they had done to her.

Darkness lay even gloomier in the king's forest on the very outskirts of the Maurice's kingdom where the gray stone tower they had imprisoned his Belle rose above the vast treetops in some morbid monolith of ages past.

The darkened woods appeared even more ominous that the one that fringed upon the Dark Castle, but perhaps it was the melancholy of what burden lay upon its soil.

The fiend grimaced as he traversed the greenery; forcing the vines and scratching branches to twist from his path with every hard step.

His limbs seemed to shift through ice as he moved numbly amongst low hanging shrubs and undergrowth that felt as if they clawed at him as if in accusation. Each sound of night was akin to the whispering echo of his guilt from the sullen hoot of the owl to the growls of the predators lurking amidst the dense undergrowth. The all seemed to say 'your fault, your fault' with every tepid step he took.

Forever he felt as though he were lost amidst the banked mists that wove across the trees and draped over the full limbs like a widows mourning shroud, and the hungry crimson eyes that followed him until he came to it.

Moonlight beamed down mournfully on a small clearing amidst a coppice of sleek dark pines that felt as though they were guarding some sacred site. The luminous light cast a mystical silver hue upon the lush carpet of leaf strewn greenery with only a small bump of charred wood and gray ashes raised up from the earth to show that something had recently been burned in a funeral pyre.

Dead, the word hadn't hit him so hard until that one moment. It was one thing to hear it, to find out, but to actually see the small scorched patch of land truly drove the blade of agony into his soul.

He thought he was strong, he thought he had built his walls up so sturdily around his heart nothing would tear them down. His skin so thick, not even the strongest blade could penetrate it. He thought the ice so dense nothing could thaw it away from his soul. How wrong he had been; how horribly, horribly wrong.

"No." He choked hoarsely, his voice caught tremulously in his tightened throat. It couldn't be, he lied to himself, even though the evidence stood in front of him in one giant ashen heap.

Scalding misty tears swelled in his sable eyes as he fell numbly to his knees by the small patch of charred wood and earth that held testament to her demise. "Oh Belle." The fiend rasped her name in a voice that held every inch of the pain that racked his body.

She hadn't deserved to die, she hadn't deserved to be shunned by everyone she ever cared for, yet there her ashes lay as cold as his heart had been towards her that day he had tossed her out like refuse.

Anger mingled with his grief burned in low embers of the void inside as he looked at the poor place that had turned her to cinders. Where they so ashamed of the 'tainted woman' who had once left to save them all that they did not even have the decency to give her a proper grave?

He had seen faithful dogs buried better than had done her. Yet they had burned her body like she had a malignancy that would infect the land if she wasn't purged clean of their presence. What did one do when they found something corrupted but burn it?

"You didn't deserve this. You were always kind and wonderful." He gasped through hot tears that fell upon the cold blanked pyre wood. A cry tore raggedly from his throat as he clutched at the splinters of charred wood and the ashes, with tear stained fists. "You're dead and it's all my fault!" He blurted sorrowfully in his racking sobs.

If only he had not turned his back on her and cast her our upon the cold, cruel world that would give her no refuge once they found out who she was. He might as well have pushed her from the looming tower himself, for he had certainly sent her to her doom by tossing her away; unwanted and unloved.

_Empty heart and a chipped cup _the words she had so uttered to him in his callousness barreled down upon him as if the wind whispered her voice upon the chill air. She had been right, it hit him with all the strength heart ache could possible possess; laying him low.

"You were right. Forgive me, Belle." Rumpel sputtered quietly his voice low. "Forgive me."

A wail of pain growled from his throat as his body fell limp to the hard ground in a heap of pain and sorrow. His eyes blurred with salty tears and dirt and soot as he wept unashamedly for the woman who had truly loved him and who he had let go.

Hate barreled through him for the people and himself who had sent her to her doom. They had done this to his Belle, they had burned her body and left her pyre a smoldering heap for the beasts to pick at and the sands of time to wash over until she was forgotten to the annals of history.

A growl of grief stricken rage rumbled from his mouth as he staggered weakly to his feet and turned back towards the direction of the kingdom. They would all suffer for doing this to her, no innocence would be spared for taking his Belle's life!

Dark, sickly amethyst coiled about his jagged talons as he imaged the plagues that would infect the villages until not a soul remained drawing breath, but at the last moment he caught the glimpse of something gold and green entangled in the singed shrubbery a bit far from the scorched land.

In that instant if there was anything such as hope that ever existed it sparked in his soul.

The magic dwindled from his hands, drifting upon the air as fetid smoke as he turned dazedly to the vibrant colors that fell out of place with the darkness.

The cloak, of course how could he have forgotten, the fiend scolded himself viciously as promise soared through him. Fire wouldn't harm it, neither perhaps would a fall even from the looming tower.

Belle had always been resourceful and cunning, perhaps she had managed an escape and somehow made others believe she had truly died. It would be just like her, outwitting death as in one of her fanciful tales.

The fiend staggered and lurched towards the brush his black talons eagerly groping for the enchanted gossamer fibers. Before him was hope that temporarily banished all darkness from his spirit. Belle would have found a way, she always could.

Clutching the cloak, Rumpel yanked it from the dewed undergrowth his hope soaring above the tree tops, nearly bursting within in him, before instantly crashing down to earth in a miserable, bloody heap.

Large gashes and rips festooned the enchanted garb where it showed clear evidence she had not fallen swiftly nor cleanly to the forest. Thick black splotches, that he knew for a fact was her blood, caked the cloak in intermediate spots where the holes had been shorn through as easy as shears ripped through cheese cloth.

There was no way she could have survived that, the Dark One knew assuredly. He stared at the garment in a numb horror, his thumbs tracing the bloodied fibers he so tirelessly worked on for her comfort.

Then truly she was gone…

A wail of sheer pain arose from the mist laden land making the most hardy, ferocious predators cringe at the sound that was akin to a long dead ghost mourning for a love lost.

~8~8~

"Well, did you enjoy the show?" Regina asked mockingly sweet, her voice reverberating around the cold rock walls surrounding her.

The witch tramped down a series of hard slate stairs that had been long forged into the black rock of her secret dungeon. Intermittent scones for large torches were dug into the cold walls, their flames guttering dankly against the darkness that enshrouded and muffled them.

A vicious smile bloomed to the vile sorceress' pale, exquisite face as she halted in front of a dim square cell. The foul little place was bare save for one tiny rectangular barred air shaft clawed out of the stone that brought in a little spattering moon light from the world far, far above.

Whisking her thin fingers through the icy air, the malicious monarch banished the floor length silver mirror that stood directly in front of the solitary cell to vanish from before the cage that housed her most prized prisoner.

Belle lay upon her side facing the stoic rock wall of the back of her cage instead of the cruelly gloating witch standing at the bars. Her russet curls were stained with dirt, blood, and tears that gummed to her face morbidly, as her body was liberally dotted with dark black and purple bruises from the cruel monarchs physical beatings.

Regina, of course, had told the devious Dark One only a half truth of Belle's demise. It was true that her father had shunned her, from the innocent implications and suggestions from Regina who had posed as a loyal advisor. They had locked Belle in the forest tower, and they were going to 'cleanse' her, but Regina appeared in the last moment offering a recourse for escape by means of a spell known as 'mirror image.'

A lock of hair and her cloak was all that was needed to perform the delicate conjuration that would make the image look like Belle, feel like Belle, and bleed like Belle but wouldn't be Belle.

Of course Regina hadn't come in her usual fashion of dark roiling clouds and tainted black magic, but in the form of some tittering, fretting, kind fairy godmother that would make good Belle's freedom. The stupid, frightened, heart broken woman had trusted her only to find herself free of one prison and into a far worse cage.

The witch couldn't help but smirk at her own cunning as she flung open the rusted magic bars and strolled in pleasantly as if attending a ball and not traipsing into fetid cell. "I asked did you enjoy my little chat with you former master." Regina echoed again lasciviously.

Striking out her hand, dark tendrils of black magic assaulted Belle's form as the dark powers battered her with torture that burned her muscles and tore at her flesh like a rabid wolfs fangs.

The beauty whimpered pitifully against the pain; curling up to try and protect herself from the conjured blows that felt real yet didn't leave any hint of assault on her body. It wouldn't stop, she knew quite well, until the foul harpy got her answer.

"You didn't have to be so cruel to him!" Belle cried through the pain that racked her body with torment.

The witch had forced her to watch the pain flash in her Rum's eyes, through her vile own, with the aid of the mirror, and witness the agony that wrenched his soul as the false words hit their mark in his heart. That by far had been the worse torture she had assailed Belle with to date.

The beauty had beat her fists upon the aged bars until they bled and mingled with the rust; screaming at the mirror, as if Rum could hear her, that it was a lie and it was not her that had jumped from the tower.

"Oh but it was such fun ripping his heart asunder." Regina chuckled wickedly as she dismissed the coils of dark magic casually. "I would assume at this hour he's probably gone to investigate my words, found your bloodied cloak, and has probably killed dear old daddy for letting his lovely advisor sway him into sending his only daughter to a tower. To think, your true love killing your papa over your death!" The witch crowed evilly; pleased with her sly cunning and cruel words.

Belle leapt to her feet suddenly, like a mad animal prodded and beaten to the brink of madness at the hands of a cruel owner. An enraged shriek erupted from her throat as she lunged for the vilely smirking queen that stood quite at ease before her.

The thick, heavy chain digging into her neck rattled taunt as the beauty's hands were only inches away from the witch. Rage such as she had never known burned inside her with only the one crazed thought to snatch the sorceress and rip her limb from limb for all the pain she'd caused.

A harsh laugh bark from Regina's glossy red lips as she snapped her fingers causing the chain to shorten and recoil, throwing Belle back with a hard fall to the cold stone floor. "You should reserve your strength." The vile monarch chided mockingly as if scolding a petulant child. "If I can't take my ire out on Rumpel when he's managed to cause some discord to my plans I will simply have to take my rage out on the only thing he holds dear."

With that hinted precursor of torture to come, Regina merely turned upon her heel and strutted out, leaving Belle to contemplate her fate of a life of agony and loneliness.

The beauty lay prone in the flickering darkness for a few moments to catch her breath, before shifting slightly on the floor. Even thought her whole body ached from Regina's torment she managed to clamber to the small squat ventilation shaft that only showed a stark midnight black and a hint of silver.

Her trembling hands gripped the bars as she stoically pulled her self up a bit, despite the chain around her neck, to stare at the faint glow of radiance that the moon showered through the barred portal.

At the same instance the fiend was back home in the Dark Castle that seemed even lonelier since his departure as if the enchanted palace knew of its keeper's demise as well.

Toying with the small blue and white ceramic tea cup spared in his rage one long year ago, Rumpel sat at one of the towering windows watching the moon make its slow trek across the velvet firmament.

Although neither knew it, both stared at what they could of the pallid moon at the same instance; thoughts of the other and the good times they had shared racing through there sullen minds. The fireflies. The dance. The hours curled up in front of the library hearth reading tomes in-between cups of tea.

The beauty managed to haul herself up a tad further, despite the tether; her dirty face close to the bars as she could get. No matter what happened to her she would always love Rumpelstiltskin. That was as certain as the sun rising in the east.

The beast pressed his scaly, gray-gold forehead to the cold glass of the monolithic window, his eyes screwed tight to fight back the tears that pricked his ebony orbs as his thumb circled the chipped rim of the precious trinket. It had been bitter sweet and strange that he found there was a part of the Dark One that could be changed and learning that he was wrong to think he could shut his heart out entirely; all because of her.

Staring at what they could of the luminous silver orb nestled above, the pair spoke simultaneously as if in some sweet promise of faraway lovers denied their mate.

"Rumpelstiltskin."

"Belle."

They whispered hoarsely as one to the lustrous moon; both wishing for the other.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Wow, this was a very hard ending for me. Also, I am no good a writing endings ._. I actually wrote two endings, but it took me two days to decide what way to end this. So finally I chose to go with this one but it wasn't easy. If I have time to work on the alternate, AU, (trust me far happier) ending, I __**might **__put it up. Thanks everyone who read and reviewed and put me on favorites, and alert lists! I try to reply back to all you wonderful, supportive people who comment, but if I missed you just thanks a million for the nice reviews! :3_


	31. Alternate Ending!

_A/N: A couple folks me and asked in the reviews to post the Alternate Ending up. Here you are, guys and gals! Tell me which one you liked the best! Thanks for reading and reviewing and enjoy!_

**~8~8~**

The warm noontide sun of early summer beamed down upon Belle as she stood the apex of a large hillock that crested towards the sprawling lands of her father's provinces. Soft, summer wind whispered warmly past her face and tousled her chestnut hair and cloak playfully in a merry dance as she looked to the outlying kingdom spread before her in its dainty little shires and villages that was akin to a spread vibrantly hued quilt intermingled with a myriad of colors.

Out beyond the green fields and lovely cottages sat the modest palace of the small merchant king, Maurice, nestled towards the glimmering azure sea and the marsh tides of the east like some watchful protectorate of all it surveyed.

It was a home, Belle knew, but some how the word held a bitter sweetness that danced on her tongue as her sapphire eyes solemnly gazed upon her fathers blue and gold pennants fluttering in the warm sea breezes that brought the smells of salt in land.

She knew exactly what business the content villagers were doing even though she couldn't see anyone from her lofty perch; for nothing, she was absolutely certain, had changed amidst her father's realm since the years she had been gone as a slave to the Dark One.

She couldn't truly call it 'her home' any longer, she supposed grievously as her eyes scanned the horizon where brilliant blue waters that glinted flecks of the golden sun, met misty pale blue sky in some eternal expanse that flowed unto infinity. The beauty had come to see and feel that the Dark Castle was her true home.

The first few months she had been toiling in the Dark One's citadel the beauty had felt a mild pang of longing for her father's palace once or twice in the Dark Castle, but now she felt nearly physically sick from being away from the home she had come to know and cherish; her real home with Rum.

No, not much at all had changed since in her old home she had sold herself to Rumpelstiltskin, but nearly everything had changed about her. She was no longer the beauty that had been by her father's side years ago; fretting and combing over the old, brown and water stained fringed maps, and giving counsel on the next tactic the ogres might use to destroy their kingdom along with juggling a grand marriage at the same time to the knight, Gaston.

If there was one boon Rum had given her it was the time to be away from the lace and pretty painted faces, and tittering words of nonsense to be herself and let the true Belle be brought forward without being stifled by court gossip and useless noble fancies who disapproved of her quiet, bookish tendencies.

And now she would be going back to all of it to be more of an outcast than she had been before the ogres came to declare war and burn their home.

A heavy sigh fell from her lush, frowning lips as the beauty could already picture the dithering nobles and courtiers and hanger-on's all staring agape at her as she walked in; her stride still graceful but with a stoic strength, her hands, once delicate and dainty, work worn and calloused, but there was now a dark sorrow in her azure eyes that couldn't be masked no matter what veil she chose to disguise her emotions with.

She wagered she wouldn't get two steps into the gate before half the castle was aflame with gossip of her return.

The thoughts of going back to it all; to the mindless hours of neutral, numbing chats and harsh gossip and the false smiles and greedy eyes and Gaston with his battle hardened hands all over her as if she were some sort of trophy very nearly made Belle turn back around and never go back to her once home ever again.

A modest tavern in the Wild Wood near the dwarf mines had been impressed when she earned her keep for a couple of day by telling tales as a bard to the patrons who drank their nights and coins away. Dwarf and human alike had listened in a rapt trance as she wove fanciful stories of dragons and knights, in exchange for a few meals and a place to sleep by the hearth fire in the dining hall.

The owners, a rather jovial old couple, had offered her a job as a tavern bard that paid in room and board and she got to keep the thankful gestures of the patrons who gave her coppers and the occasional silvers in appreciation for her excellent story telling.

She had very nearly accepted, but thoughts of her ailing, aging father still dragging the heavy weight of governing on his stooping shoulders, and the condition of her people, had kept her duty born to return back to the place of her origin. Even if it would never be home again, the beauty was determined to aid as best she could until she most likely took reigns of the kingdom when her dear papa passed from the world of the living and into the shadows beyond.

However, she had decided from the moment she had laid down in front of the warm stones of the inn hearth for the last time, she would not marry Gaston.

It wasn't that she despised the knight in any acute way that made her blood boil to overflowing. He was courteous when courtesy was due, highly over protective, and dense as a brick, but was capable in some regards and would do the army a good service of leadership even if she was running everything else from behind the lavish velvet curtains of the palace.

After being engaged to him for a year, she had grown found enough of the rather dull knight to call him something akin to a friend, but never anything remotely close to love. Perhaps over years of them being married and she bearing him a few strapping sons, which he always admitted he wanted whenever they had gotten steered into that uncomfortable discussion, she might have learned to love him, but now that was an impossibility.

As she had lain there watching the banked ember glow warmly in the last flickering bits of light, she knew Rumpelstiltskin would always own her heart. He had claimed her love as his own even though he pushed it away, and yet in some strange was still kept it though he refused to acknowledge it.

She would never learn to love Gaston, and would not hurt him like that by being his wife but never truly loving him. Not even he deserved that cruelty.

As she scaled down the towering peak to the valley below where what once was home awaited, the beauty had to keep reminding herself of duty and sacrifice, even though with each wary step she couldn't help but think of it as walking toward slavery all over again.

It was slavery in a way, except her dungeon would be a lavish gilded room suffused with anything her heart desired as ladies in waiting dotted upon her every step and fretted over every sigh burst from the princess' lips. Fetters of silk rather than iron would be about her wrists, binding her to a lot in life that she thoroughly detested.

An amused sardonic smirk etched upon Belle's lips as she instantly decided she would take her old, dank, cold dungeon room in Rum's palace in a heart beat over whatever extravagancies awaited her back in her father's citadel.

The outskirts of the palace was busy as it usually was on market day with old, well known voices blusteringly hawking their wares of food, silks, trinkets, sweet meats, weapons, in good natured competition with their rivals who were more good friends than business foes, and children laughing and playing while mothers and fathers bartered and shopped for the wares.

Here and there a few young men and women just coming into their own were flirting and cooing one another as they mingled about in their own little groups of would be loves. The sight romance from the young who talked under shaded trees and walked hand in hand, stung Belle's heart worse than it should have, but she managed to shake off the pain and focus on snaking her way through the throngs and to the palace gates.

Looking from under her green and gold cloaks hood that she tactfully kept low over her amber honey hair, she could see that Rumpelstiltskin had indeed kept his word and the kingdom had prospered with more trade and money than it had ever had.

The people were happy and safe from the ogre blades and chains, and deny all she will; the beauty couldn't help but feel a grain of pride that she had the courage to strike a bargain with the Dark One to save them all at the price of her freedom.

As the dark iron gates that stood threateningly in front of the palace came into view, Belle couldn't help but feel a bit anxious in seeing her father and even Gaston again. What would they think? Surely the terms of the deal had been forever and now she was suddenly appearing like a woman come back from the grave! But all of that could wait, the beauty chided herself, as she slowed padded towards the rigid guards. First she had to figure out how to get inside the palace to face them, without the whole village hearing about it before she got to her father study!

"E-excuse me." Belle began timidly in a frail wispy timbre to hide her voice the guards still might recognize even thought it's been years and a few months. "I'm trying to seek a job as a servant in the castle. Is there a steward I may speak to?"

The guard before her was small compared to the other towering watchmen. He was nearly her height, and sported a reddish brown beard and dark eyes that stared and inspected her hungrily. Immediately Belle cursed her luck at a slip of memory that suddenly landed her in a dangerous position. This was Gaston's best friend, Laffue by name.

The burly guardsmen shrugged his broad shoulders carelessly as he lean his halberd on the Iron Gate. "Suppose I could, if you do something for me."

Before Belle could react to his insipid words, the brute knocked the hood from her head to get a better look at her features only to see a face everyone thought they'd never see again.

Rich maple curls that shown glossy in the sun tumbled down her shoulder, now free of the hood and Belle involuntarily winced at the shocked gasps that arose in simultaneous chorus from the people who milled around; that in turn made other people turn to stare.

"It can't be" One breath in surprise.

"Is it she?" Another asked dubiously.

Raucous clamor suddenly filled the market as people begin talking amidst themselves while other began began to glare disapprovingly at her.

Laffue stared agape at her, his mouth swinging open as he blinked owlishly at her. "My…my apologies, majesty. If I had known it to be you." He got no further as the sound of her father's booming voice resounded past the noise in a vitality Belle hadn't heard since she was a child.

He had been walking to the armory to see a new shipment of weapons that came across the sea, when he heard the noise and awed gasps and had taken a detour to witness the commotion. And there she stood, lovely Belle, his only child, his daughter! "Open the gate and let her through! Let my daughter through!" He roared and blustered as he stomped down the stairs still clad in his ermine finery of court.

Instantly the titanic iron clad gates swung open on greased hinges and Belle stepped inside to greet her father. "Papa!" Belle exclaimed happily, wrapping her arms about him in a monstrous hug.

"Oh my girl." Maurice bubbled in a tone that was neither joyous nor distraught; his hand stroking her maple curls as he squeezed her tight. He pushed her back after a moment, his thick hands on her shoulders as his eyes scanned her in morbid curiosity and relief mingled with a bit of terror wallowing in her brown eyes. "Come, come, we will talk in my study." He declared warily before he turned back towards the palace.

A bit of disquiet, and wariness pricked inside Belle's intelligent intuition, but so happy to see her father well, and in better health than when she had left, smothered any negative feelings she had flickering inside her.

The castle looked the same as if had when she had departed with her former master, but the huge gashes and holes torn through the ancient mortar and timber by the siege creations of the ogres had been expertly repaired and covered with inordinately expensive and expertly tailored rugs and tapestries so that it appeared there had never been an ogre war at all.

And yet despite the palace being returned to its former glory and finery now brimming with even more riches, a dark foreboding wafted through the corridors and chamber that felt like Rum's except far more sinister.

Courtiers, knights, nobles, and tittering ladies in waiting all stared agape at her, not even mildly trying to hide their stares as Belle and her father traversed their way to his private study.

Some, who she might be able to have called friends once upon a time, dipped deep bows to her befitting a princess, but so long working for Rumpelstiltskin as nothing more than a slave she fought the urge to blush at their respect and scuffle off to the servant's quarters.

"What happened, Belle? Did you escape?" Maurice asked as they entered his refurbished study and war room. Now in private the monarch became more relived to see her like any father would who had just been reunited with his child.

The beauty shook her head as she walked about the room that had remained the same since she had left. Her heart ached at the thoughts of her release and the cold, stony façade Rumpel had exuded when he tossed her out. "No, papa, he let me go." She replied simply, daring to not go into any detail.

Her father stared at her critically for a few tenuous agonizingly long minutes as if trying to unearth something hidden inside his daughter. After a silent few minutes had passed he wrapped his child in another hug, and this time Belle could hear the tears in his throat. "It's alright, Belle, you don't have to say anymore. I know you would be loath to speak of your slavery, even to me. You were brave and only did what you thought best for our people and to survive. I do not look upon you any less now no matter what perverse pleasure you had to endure at that beast hands."

"Wait, what?" Belle murmured confused as she pulled away at arms length from her father. Her brow was furrowed with confusion as she watched the tears stream down his eyes.

"We received a letter from your late betrothed, Gaston. He wrote how he battled the beast and when he eventually lost the bloody monster cast a spell on him to relate the message that you were ill treated and used for his…lustful amusement." The monarch verified before swiping his warm brown eyes clear of tears.

The beauty grimaced at the foul words as a blush fired upon her cheeks even at the thought of Rum doing any of those things. She shook her head laconically, anger slightly sparking in a low ember within her. "He never touched me. I don't know what got into Gaston, but that is a lie. Rumpelstiltskin is not a beast or a monster; he is a thoughtful good hearted man deep down. He was a kind master to me and always made sure I was in need of nothing."

Her fathers face suddenly turned to ashen white like a corpse trussed up in a casket as he backed a few steps away from her in disbelief at her words; his jowls wobbling as he attempted to speak, but at first no words coming out. His eyes widened into terror as he nervously licked his lips. "She…she foretold you would say that…she said it was the true sign…"

"What?" Belle shook her head slightly as the lines in her brown deepened in confusion. "Papa, you're speaking in riddles. What sign and who is she?"

"Allow me to clarify your questions." A sly, intelligent voice remarked suddenly. One could almost hear the infuriating smirk on her lips even without turning as her tall stiletto heels clicked rhythmically into the study.

Belle could have gone ten thousand years without hearing that voice, but in the moment the sound reached her ears she knew it belonged to the woman that made the hairs on the back of the beauty's neck prickle and her blood to heat in fury.

Rounding about, the beauty scowled to suddenly see the form of the noble woman from the road all clad in black and standing quite comfortably inside the study. Her eyes narrowed hatefully into twin sapphire slits as she all but growled at the calmly perusing witch. "Papa, you should have the guards remove this harpy at once. She is an evil queen who did more damage to me in one day than any time I spent with the Dark One. She tricked me into loosing his trust!"

Regina, turned her cold teal stare to the flagrantly bewildered, scared, and flustered king who looked to Regina and back at Belle with a hard, worried gaze. Her face softened into a guise of concern and solace as she shook her head laconically in condolences. "You see, dear king? Everything I said has come to pass. I feared as much, but the fiend has been so hard to her, her mind has snapped under the strain in order to cope with his cruelty."

Her attention turned back to Belle, but where the beauty's father saw genuine wisdom and grief, the returning princess saw the evil glee flitting beneath the pallid exterior. "We know what trauma you've gone through. The things he's done to try and taint you for his sinister amusement. Please, I and your father only want to help make you better. You don't have to fool yourself any longer into thinking that was love all those nights pinned under him to warm his bed and sate his lust."

"How dare you say such things about him? He has honor, and never touched me or toyed with my mind!" Belle screamed harshly; her loose curls falling slightly over her face in a curtain of russet.

"Belle, please listen, Regina only wants to help." Maurice intersected tenderly, his voice placating and coaxing as when Belle was a little girl and he was trying to get her to come out of one of her many reading nooks she sequestered herself in.

The beauty jerked around to her father in disbelief that he was falling for the blatant veil of concern and kindness with the cruelty lurking right under her pale flesh. "No, papa, you listen. This woman tore my whole world down and single handedly managed to murder my happiness. She is an evil queen who seeks to destroy Rumpelstiltskin!"

"And that is not a noble cause? To defeat the beastly Dark One who steals children and ruins lives?" The witch retorted slyly as she padded innocently towards Belle. "Dear, dear, just trust us to make you bet-."

"No!" Belle roared as Regina's hand neared her shoulder. In an instant she grabbed Regina by the wrist and unsheathed the dagger under her cloak she had acquired from her journey back home. "You told me to give him that kiss, knowing it would weaken him! You ruined what I could have had with him!"

Before she could even make a slash at the vile harpy, her father's thick hand grabbed her wrist as guards burst through the thick double doors at the screams and came streaming inside.

Regina leapt back as Belle struggled from her father's grip, which easily handed her over to the chain mail clad guards. They grabbed her firmly by the upper arm and shoulders as they disarmed her and held her back from the seemingly startled, but inwardly pleased Regina.

"Stop and think for a moment, Belle!" Her father cried out distressfully. "You've pulled a blade on a woman you've never even met, and have just defended the beast that took you away from us!"

"Rum is not a beast!" Belled shrieked as she fought against the guards in her blood fueled rage. "She's the beast, she is!"

The witch merely shrugged as she shook her head pityingly. "Do you see, King Maurice? She has even given him a pet name of affection. Her mind is so deluded, she actually believes she cares for that animal. Do you see how necessary my plan is now?"

All eyes were on the corpulent king who stood there staring at Belle who had stopped her struggles, but still looked half crazed with fury towards the woman she had dubbed the 'evil queen.'

"Yes." He breathed hoarsely, his throat tight with tears. "Guards, take her to the tower. The clerics and shamans will purge her soul and cleanse her mind of this…infatuation with the Dark One…"

~8~8~

Rumpelstiltskin hated dwelling in the lavish Dark Castle now that he was again the only resident that inhabited the ominous citadel. A year to the date, and the pain hadn't subsided even for the minutest of fractions.

He had spun so much gold in trying to relive Belle from his memory that he had conjured a new store room for his hoards of golden twine, and still her words and face plagued him with out relent.

The worst was when he finally managed to banish her memory for a few hours and find some sort of solace in the dismalness of his heart only to absently call for her while he was working on something, only to realize it was all in vain. A pain so great clamped over his heart that he thought he might wither and die as silence was all that replied. She would never answer again to a quip he had thought up, or fritter away a few hours with banter and reading.

No matter how soft a bed or lavish a chamber, the fiend could no longer find any peace in sleep unless it was in Belle's old cell resting on the cold stone floor with a cloak pulled over him as she had done. Yet that too had its own price for the memories of her were especially vivid there, and some nights he could even swear he smelled the aroma of her perfume drifting through the cold air as sleep pulled him into its realm where images of her haunted his dreams.

He was granted no peace when she was gone, but perhaps that was his penance for blatantly lying in her face and tossing her out as some one unwanted and unloved. She had nailed her words to his cold, black heart the day he had given her freedom, and left them there to bleed into a bloody puddle of his soul.

If he could go back in time it would be different. If he knew the pain and the emptiness he would feel every second she wasn't near he would have done something _anything _different; he wouldn't have been, as she said, so cowardly.

At night when he would lay awake in the blackness of the cell, unable to stand another dream where her laughter capriciously chimed longingly through his mind; listening to the curious rats scurry and run in the darkness he would wonder what would happen if he went to find Belle.

As long as the ogres remained defeated and barred from her father's land, Belle was still his property and he could lay claim to her whenever he desired. Even though he had given her a type of freedom, the magical monster always laid down loop-holes as was his nature.

It would have been a simple spell to reveal her location, but just as she had said those long, long days ago he was to cowardly to pursue her as his whole body willed him to. The Darkness held him back, constantly reliving the night of his terror as he had almost turned back into a mere mortal man to keep his courage at bay. He would have transformed back into a weak cripple with a host of enemies who wouldn't think twice of gutting him.

Still, when terror of that night did not grip him in its icy talons, the fiend's mind usually drifted back to the one glorious moment where her lips had met his. Oh had there been anything more blissful than that moment?

Rumpel sighed mournfully as he turned the wheel in its lazy cycle, his mind wandering over that soft press of her lips against his own. Even now as he licked he lips, he swore he could taste her mouth over his.

"Stop it. Stop thinking of her!" Rumpelstiltskin growled viciously as his hand clamped over the rim of his wheel and his black claws dug deeply into the timber. He felt the pain surge in him as he laid his scaly forehead to the wood. The magical monster was tired of the sleepless nights, and the loneliness and the pain and the hurt that would never mend. By heaven above he would give anything to forget a wonderful woman named Belle had ever existed! "But you can't." He rasped hoarsely in a whisper, his throat catching. "You can't…"

He very nearly slammed his fist against the ancient spinner's wheel in heart ache and agitation, when he felt his heart lurch on its own accord that had nothing to do with the wallowing mire of sadness.

A pain, real, physical agony slashed through him, staggering the fiend. His breath hitched in his tight throat has his talons scratched at the flesh above his heart. What was happening? Why did it feel as though something was crying out to him in fear and pain?

Gasping, his eyes went wide as the torment subsided, but not the alarm that had barreled through him. "Belle…" He whispered her name in a tremulous breath. She was in trouble. He didn't know how he knew it, only that he knew without a shadow of a doubt something bad was about to occur to his Belle.

Gliding unceremonious off his stool, the devious monster staggered to his apothecary, his magic searching for the one tool that would help him find Belle. As he burst into his apothecary the black tendrils of his magic combed the room seeking what he now desperately sought.

The dark magic's might not have beckoned to his command if it too hadn't been so shocked at the lances of foreign pain that had shot through its host. Begrudgingly the blackness bent to his will; making a path of foul power to the item he sought.

A gilded silver hand mirror rested down at the bottom of a rusted steel chest that was covered in thick folds of dust and hidden by other items. The devious Dark One instantly tossed the article away as he dug for the one thing that would show him anyone he desired who dwelled in this world. He had learned the hard way that the magic did not extend to other worlds.

His dexterous claws grabbed the handle as he pulled it forth from the chest that it had been hidden in all those long centuries. It would show him where she resided, but he needed something of her first. Immediately he snapped his fingers, brining forth the slip of blue ribbon she had neatly tied about his arm those long days ago when he had seemingly gotten revenge on the cunning Maleficent.

Wrapping the small token around the expertly crafted hilt, the fiend peered deeply at the glass, his sable orbs searching the reflection frantically. "Show me Belle!" He all but roared and watched intently as the glass swirled to look like some silvery water then began to steadily clear.

~8~8~

"Please, princess, we're doing this for your own good." One of the rotund clerics stated serenely as he gleefully spun a heating brand into the belly of a roaring fire.

Belle didn't deem to speak, but tested the chains around her wrist for what felt like the hundredth time. It was no use, no matter how much she pleaded and ranted as they dragged her out of the palace and into the forest tower all those three days ago no one would believe her tale. They all trusted the kings 'advisor' and either regarded the princess in sneers of disgust or glances of pity.

"Are the toys almost ready?" Regina asked as she appeared in the tower in a dense mist of black that looked like acrid smoke from the pits of hell. The wicked monarch gave a sadistic little chuckle as she sauntered over to what she had so tenderly referred to as her 'toys'; her delicate hands tracing over the bloody implements.

The cleric nodded once and bowed low as he picked out a certain instrument riddled with spikes. "We're finally ready, my queen." He giggled insanely as did the other 'clerics' that milled around the room.

"Why are you doing this? What do you get out of this?" Belle asked; her bravery finally on its last legs as she gaped at the foreign pain inducing devices that would soon assail her flesh.

Regina perched a brow slightly in amusement as she picked up one of the pokers and twirled it deftly in her grip. "Why? My dear, when I kill you I get to crush the one thing Rumpelstiltskin loves. And therefore when I tell him of your tragic death where you threw yourself off the tower I get to kill a little part of him as well." Turning back to the men who had all grabbed some vile devices, the queen gave them all a warm smile, giving Belle no more thought. "Shall we begin, gentlemen?"

Nodding as one, they all slowly turned to the beauty who trembled in fear at the pain only moments away. The first cleric who had been heating the pokers stepped up with his device that looked like a long corded whip with razors to perhaps flay flesh from bone with each stroke.

Unable to watch, Belle shut her eyes to fight back the tears, but a small scream did escape her lips along with the name of her love.

A sharp, bloody crack rent the air accompanied by a scream as Belle's body trembled uncontrollably. A fraction of a second later, she realized the sound had not been from her lips, nor had the flay touched her flesh. Opening her eyes a peek, she could barely believe that the thing standing in front of her had gray-gold flesh that shimmered in the fire light like scales and straggly dirty brown hair.

"Don't. You. Touch. Her." He grounded out every word at the body with the bloody flay wrapped around his throat cutting off his air supply and the razors digging into the cords of his neck to bring out spurts of hot black blood.

The fiend heaved in rage as his eyes spied the cruel harpy standing in the back of the clerics, her once victorious smirk swiped clean off her face only to be replaced seconds later with an amiable smile. "Rumpel, I didn't expect to see you here. As you can see I'm only having a little fun. Care to join in?"

"She's still mine!" He snapped and with a wave of his fingers turned all the clerics into earthworms writing on the stone, leaving no one in-between he and Regina.

The witch put on an expression of unfairness as she took a step forward. "Tut tut, Rumpel. You freed her therefore making her fair game."

"Wrong, Dearie, the contract was and is forever. As long as the ogres stay out of her fathers land her debt is mine to collect anytime I deem fit. She will always be mine and do you know what happens to those that touch my property?" He asked; his voice low and dangerous making the sorceress shiver despite the heat.

In a moment he had taken one step but was sudden right in front of Regina, his talons digging viciously into the cords of her neck. "Really bad things." He hissed inches from her terrified face. He stayed frozen that way for a moment, letting her sputter and try to use her magic that had no affect at all upon him. "Don't let it happen again." The devious Dark One spat.

With that he released her, letting the foul monarch stumbled backward and nearly trip. Regina coughed and hacked at the pain in her throat and the blood that dribbled down her flawless skin. She opened her mouth to speak, but the sheer frosty glint of ice in his onyx orbs closed her mouth tighter than any spell could.

Scowling darkly at him, the witch waved her fingers and disappeared in a could of foul magic to lick her wounds and cry over her failed plans.

The press of her foul magic abated as she disappeared and Rum turned about, his breathing still heavy. "Belle!" He cried her name as he raced over to her.

With a snap of his finger the chains cruelly wrapped about her wrist that had dug into her skin and make her stand just on the tip of her toes for three days vanished into sand. Her legs were as weak as water, but her caught her up in his strong grip the way he had that day she fell from the ladder.

"Rum." Belled chocked, her smile wide and relived as tears of happiness glimmered in her eyes. Slinging one of her arms around his neck, the beauty fell close to him, letting his warmth soothe her. "How…why are you here?"

Not that she wasn't grateful, of course; he had come at the most opportune time and saved her from torture! It was just that the way he had been that long year ago had made her think he detested the very sight of her. Why after all that time apart would he come to her aid?

She was safe! The word rattled through him as he held her close to his wiry frame to keep her protected. He hadn't the courage to go after her, but once he had felt her need all caution was thrown to the arid wind to keep her from harm. "You took something from me." He revealed, hoarsely in relief that she was safe flitting his voice. By the Dark Magic itself he never wanted to let her go!

The beauty's brow knit in lines of misunderstanding, and trying to recall what she had taken, before she shook her head mildly. "T-the book?" She stammered unsure.

"No, Belle-of-mine, not the book." The magical monster replied in a hint of amusement as his tongue slipped with her old nick-name. He grinned softly at her; he couldn't help it after what she could have possibly gone through if he hadn't felt her pain and fear in his heart.

The silence about them was almost palpable as they stared gently at one another. After a year of separation all they truly desired was to drink deep the image of the other.

Slowly, her hand pressed against his black leather vest and ran up to his chest where his heart lay still pounding in a dull tempo. "Was it this?" She asked with a ghost of a grin on her pale lips.

The fiend didn't smile, nor did he frown as his head bent down to look at her hand resting against his heart and feeling it somersault in his chest. She was correct, but he couldn't dare admit it. She would weaken him more then…with a harsh inward curse the fiend banished his contemplation as he offered her a hard fought grin. It didn't matter at that moment, what mattered was that she was safe.

"Hold tight now, I don't want you falling through the magic." He remarked as pulses of purple magic began to envelope them.

"Where are we going?" She asked intrepidly. Even though she knew her father had been manipulated, the beauty was loath to return home to everyone who firmly believed her some mind addled, tainted whore. No, her place was no longer at her father's stronghold.

The magical monster's ebony orbs searched her for a moment, before taking a deep breath that rattled precariously through his form and for one moment he deemed to be brave. "Home, Belle, I'm taking you to your proper home."

The world turned from drab gray and red to the rich burgundies and browns of the Dark Castle, looking as though the pair had never left. The Dark One carried his wonderful burden, his Belle to the high backed arm chair in front of the roaring fire with ease.

Laying her down upon the plush leather gently the fiend snapped his dexterous talons to bring forth the blue and ivory ceramic kettle with its one remaining chipped cup that hadn't been used since his rampage.

As he poured her a steaming cup of the heady aromatic tea, Rumpelstiltskin knew he could deny his feelings all he wanted that, however, wasn't going to stop them or banish them away from his heart.

No matter what he wouldn't, couldn't let Belle go again even though his dark nature was roaring at him to do so. To be honest he truly did not know where that left them. Were they always to be distant from one another, walking upon eggshells lest a bit of that love seep through, but then again since he had rescued her wasn't the love fully flooding them both in its own way?

He loved her, he knew without a doubt as he stood there watching her drain the cup of warm brew. Her azure eyes, he had missed so, glimmered in the fire light and her dirty maple curls sprawled down her shoulders in a way that made his heart race. With more than a little surprise he also knew that she in some miraculous, strange way truly did love him.

Turning on his heel to face away from his Belle the fiend grimaced as he watched the darkened world from out of the spotless monolithic panes of glass. If this was going to work, if it could no longer be kept at bay or hidden in the deaths of their hearts…

"I won't change. I won't give up my power." He stated suddenly; his voice toneless as his sable orbs scanned the blackness of the mountain peaks.

"I never asked that of you." Belle replied quietly as she remained staring at the cavorting flames of the hearth.

"I won't kiss you." He continued in the same neutral timbre, even though he had to suppress the urge to flinch.

"Then I shall be content lying by your side." She retorted gently with a vague tip of her head.

"You know there is a beast inside of me, Belle." He finally spat after a moment of silence. This time his voice cracked with something akin to happiness mingled with a sadness that had never been there before. It was then he came to a shocking realization she probably owned him more than he had ever laid claim to her.

The beauty smiled as Rumpelstiltskin turned back to her and knelt to the side of the armrest to be face to face with her. Placing her hand tenderly on her clean-shaven, gray-gold cheek, a solitary, happy, and yet mildly regretted tear for all gives and takes brooked down her face as she smiled tenderly in a way that encompassed the Dark One's entire world.

Belle placed her forehead against his, her eyes shut tight as they listened to the quiet and their tremulous breathing that nearly felt in sync. A small chuckle at his words sprang from her lips as she tapered her hand up to entangle in his dirty brown mane. "So I shall tame the beast, my love...my Rum."


End file.
